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A/N: okay, many people have wondered about last chapter. I figured I'd leave you all confused by the storyline and not a cliffhanger last chapter. So everything gets explained here. For those of you who like the chapter length last time, this might make you happy.
Also, this chapter will give a look in my idea as to why Big Bad Voldie can be beaten by Harry possibly. There's something in the Last Potter…you'll see.
Oh, and Alia, this is for you…lol, I don't do fluff…ok?
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Harry awoke the next morning, pain gripping his body like a cold glove grasping him in its smothering grip. But even with all of that, a light of calm was forcing a heat through the cold. And it was slipping up his fingers along his arm and heading toward his heart.
And as soon as it hit his heart, a blast of emotions hit him. They were complete opposites all at the same time. He felt pain but felt incredible pleasure. He felt sadness but felt like leaping up right then and there and jumping up and down in happiness.
And through all of this, the golden light he had seen not to long before in his dreams had exploded across the inside of his eyelids. And his eyes opened to the faint glow of the rising the sun. It was just to that point of beginning to peak over the horizon that it cast a dull sheen of gray on everything in the room.
Harry sat his head up slowly, and sighed one of those frustrated, mentally exhausted sighs. And as he prepared to stand up, Heather stirred slightly, and there was a slight tugging of their joined hands. And slowly her eyes squinted open. It wasn't so to the point that she was awake, but her consciousness was damn near tap dancing upon the borderline.
Harry gently released their clasped hands and headed toward his trunk. He reached down to open the top to find said top in his hand. He didn't remember undoing the lock, or lifting the top any. But the lock was laying on the floor and the top was in his hand. He lifted it and peered inside. he reached in, pulling out some clothing and a towel, along with his toothbrush and his toothpaste. He then headed up the stairs. He went looking and eventually found a bathroom. He entered it and turned the shower on, letting the water heat up.
Placing the toilet cover down, Harry sat down and placed his head in his hands. He sighed deeply and replayed everything that happened in the last few hours through his mind. He couldn't figure so much out. And the majority of it all stemmed from the black bass guitar he had charged into the fight with. There was something in him, or in it, that changed his very body, his heart and his soul.
It was like, after he leapt from that window, the world changed. It felt like the guitar he held was drawing something out of him, something buried deeply inside of him that he had never known was there. But had always been there. It was a feeling he got as it left him. Almost as if he had been wearing a mask that was ripped from him. He felt its loss even if he didn't know it was there to begin with.
He sighed as he moved his hands, feeling the steam thick in the air of the bathroom. He undressed and got into the shower, simply standing under the fairly hot rain of water for a few minutes, his head down and the water falling all over him.
As he did this, his mind slowed finally. Everything became normal again, nothing was going all too fast anymore. And this state made his mind calm to a point where he was in a sort of conscious sleep. He was still standing, but lost in a kind of deep day dream.
And as he spaced out, his mind was rushed with a literal out of body replay of every even that had transpired in the past few hours. And this showed him something he didn't know or realize before. Something had to be wrong for the Order to have seemingly abandoned him, and the rest of the Wizarding World too.
He made a mental note to ask Tonks later. But as he intended to come from his little mental rest and go back to the world, it was as if he was walking towards the door back to the Real World in a way, and a hand grabbed him and dragged him back to another door, another place in his mind.
And as he was brought here, he felt it.
He was back in the complete Darkness. He was back to being in the World of Dementors. But there was something wrong. Something was very different.
Because as soon as he seemingly "entered" the Darkness, something happened that had never happened before.
All the Dementors all turned to him.
And before him was a massive room full of the most disgusting, frighteningly shockingly evil eyes he had ever seen.
And even as he observed those vile eyes…He heard something. He heard something very very frightening.
The Dementors spoke. All at once, and all in a horrifying, pain-inducing, maniacal voice.
"Give us our souls…give us our lives. Give us what you took from us. NOOOOOOOOOOOW!!!!!"
And the droning NOW seemed to mute into a monotonous squeals and thus cause so much pain to Harry that he was literally thrown back to the world around him, his feet slipping and his footing losing its grip, and soon his body was falling backwards. And with a dull "thud" against the porcelain tub, the world went black, and thankfully, only black of unconsciousness.
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Harry opened his eyes some time later to the murmuring of voices. He cracked open his eyes to see a hazy golden sheen over his vision, but with his rapid blinking, this cleared up quickly, allowing him to see the concerned faces of those surrounding him. Zoe, Kirstin, Lindsey and of course, Heather. His eyes still felt heavy, and he made to close them again before the meory of his "episode" surfaced.
His eyes flew open and his hands moved to cover …himself…but upon placing his hands over the area, he found his body covered. He sighed in relief before wondering something. Who covered him exactly?
He finally worked his way toward a near-standing position. He staggered slightly, and the girls rushed to him to help him stand. He walked some more before finding he wasn't in the bathroom anymore, but in a bedroom, but in a bedroom.
He opened his mouth to ask how this had happened when the door opened and in walked Tonks. And behind her was a person Harry recognized immediately. Much faster than what his mind told him he should have been able to, as the transfiguration was flawless. And upon request from Tonks, the 5 girls left the room, so there were only two.
Harry,
And Albus Dumbledore.
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A/N: Some people saw this coming, some didn't. Well, it doesn't stop there.
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The man's eyes lacked all the usual bright happiness and love for life they used to have. Now, as the man stood in the room, his blue eyes seemed dead and for maybe the first time in his life, Harry saw the Headmaster avoiding Harry's eyes. A flick of his wand informed Harry of what he believed to be a sound-proofing charm, and a click told him the door was locked.
Dumbledore broke the silence.
"Harry…Harry…Harry. Once more I feel that I owe you an apology, this time a much greater one than before. There is a lot I must explain to you, and I fear that, after all of this is found out by you…everything will be different. Yes, you may be more informed…but also so much more resentful towards me.
I fear I may have lost your trust."
Harry eyed the older warlock warily. There was something about his countenance that alarmed Harry. He knew one thing, several things would be found out in this conversation that would change his life. So he took a seat on the bed, finding a pair of cotton sweatpants under him, he stood and pulled them on before sitting again, facing the older man.
"Let's see…I guess its best to start where all stories should start."
"And where is that?" Harry asked.
"The beginning my dear boy. The beginning."
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A/N: The next section is Dumbledore telling Harry this story. It will not be done in quotes, as Albus becomes the sort of narrator.
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////Story Start////
A very long time ago there was a king. He was powerful, respected and a strong force of good.
Now this was long ago, when magic was a force known all over, and it was still strong. It was still powerful. It was still connected to the Source…it was still pure.
Well, this king was fighting a war against dark forces. Something happened to his original sword, and he went to his Chief Warlock and Blacksmith for a new sword. A new weapon to engage the all too powerful enemy.
Now this king, he had the most powerful and loyal servants under him. And the Chief Warlock worked with the Blacksmith to create a weapon worthy of a king.
And after 2 years, it was created. The perfect weapon. Laced with such magic, such pure good magic, that anyone filled with malice and evil intent would be obliterated a mere touch of its power. And with this weapon, the king went into battle.
Attacking many enemies, the sword lived up to its purpose, and decimated half of the forces of evil alone. However, this was not without consequence. For you see, they say evil is not a person or an idea, but an entity. An energy. And muggle physics state energy can neither be created nor destroyed. Meaning, the power of this darkness had to go somewhere.
And soon the evil…or more accurately, pieces of the souls of the enemies the sword killed were drawn into it. And it steadily made the sword stronger…but it also made the sword begin to gain a conscious. It began to bring the sword to life.
Now the sword eventually grew so hungry, feeding off of the evil of its enemies, that it sucked their souls out, feeding on the power it gave it. Now, the sword was inherently good, so it could not deviate from that, but as a bi-product of losing their soul in that matter…something odd happened.
Now they are called Dementors.
Yes, the origin of Dementors is all due to that one weapon. Dementors, evil warriors missing their souls and forever cursed to have to wonder forever missing their souls and having to live off of the happy memories projected by others…slowly sucking others' souls away to feed their lack.
Now that is not the true story here. It was believed that the power of the sword was too great. And because the more power one gains, the easier it is to corrupt, the sword was worried about. Also it's dark presence was becoming a liability to the King. So the sword was locked away.
And over time the sword began to lose power. Well, not lose as much as forget its abilities. And over time, the sword slipped from legends, overshadowed by its replacement in history. So many people never knew about this.
////Story Break////
"And might I ask what the hell this has to do with me?" Harry asks, running the story through his head and finding no way this could relate to him.
"Then allow me to continue."
////Story Continues////
Now, it was a big secret where the weapon was stored. You probably didn't know what your father did. Well, truth is, you father was a very famous and successful Cursebreaker. And during one of his missions, he unearthed the weapon. And because he could sense the power he had, he brought it to me.
Finding out a fraction, a mere portion of the surface power it possessed, I placed it in the hands of your parents for hiding as they went under Fidelius.
Now, something few knew about your mother was, she was a very interesting case in the world of Divination. She didn't believe in it. At all. She actually made Miss Granger seem like a devout follower of said magical subject in comparison. But the dilemma was, she was arguably the most powerful Dream Seer in the past century. Her Dreams were often prophetic, and not until their hiding had she begun to read up on this ability. And not until the final point in her life did she finally come to terms with the power she herself held.
The weapon was stored with them when Lily had a Dream. This one showed Voldemort coming, and Lily knew there was no way for them to get away from this. But she also saw the severity of the situation that would arise should the man formally known as Tom Riddle get his hands on the Sword.
So, she found something very odd. There was a long-standing investigation on what Muggles call Imaginary Friends that the Ministry's MMI, MMI standing for Muggle Myth Investigation, department got a hold of. Your mother was head of this department, her roots gaining her a great advantage in this.
Upon her research into this topic, she found it possible to forcibly disembody a soul, and to join a soul to something else, usually, actually always something inanimate.
Now, I had voiced to them before they accepted the weapon into their home that there was some type of soul underneath, which was what held the true power of the weapon. So she knew the sword had a soul in it, but yet she still intended to allow it in anyways. So just hours before Voldemort arrived at Godric's Hollow, she did something very risky. But all too important.
She disembodied the soul of the sword and bonded it to something else.
"And what would that be exactly?" Harry asked lamely.
"That…would be you Harry."
////Story End////
The room grew deathly quiet. It was all too lonely inside his own head. All there was was the screaming. The angered, pained, violated screaming.
"And Harry…this means that there is a power in you greater than one person could usually possess. But it will not come out in its entirety for a long while and over a long process. But if…no, when these powers actually come out in full force, it would be possible for you to destroy Voldemort with something as remedial-seeming as a full-body bind."
Dumbledore paused for a short while to let Harry take that all in before continuing on.
"But that is not why I am here. I am here in fact to inform you of a growingly difficult situation. You see, in the Wizarding community at the moment, issues have arisen about your custody battle. And since the events of last night, the fight for your custody has reached a fever pitch. And I daresay things are going very wrong.
News of these developments could not be brought to your attention, as we now see there was a freeze on all owl post on Number 4 for a long while. Actually not specifically Number 4, but more on you. No owl coming to you could be guided to you. Which may have been why you might have noticed Hedwig having gone missing after delivering your monetary transfer from Gringotts'.
On top of this, it seems that the Death Eaters breaking into your house had no intent of engaging you. It seemed that the Go-To was dropped off in your room in the expectation that you would be missing. It seemed that the panic the Dark Forces caused in killing the Dursleys was intentional."
"But all those Death Eaters for 3 muggles? Something else had to be wrong."
"Exactly." Dumbledore smiled at Harry's quick thinking and deducting skills. "they were to patrol Privet Drive, killing everyone in the area. Then they intended to pin it on you. That way, you are in muggle prison instead of Hogwarts. And a much easier target."
Harry sat there, running everything through his mind. He had just been informed a centuries old, possibly older, super-powerful weapon had grown a soul fro killing people, and said soul was now joined to his own. Then his owl post had been blocked, and he had just escaped a stint in Muggle Prison for possibly up to a few centuries, until he was as old as the damned sword.
"What was the sword's name?" Harry asked. He didn't know why he asked this, but it seemed that it was expected for him to ask a question, and he figured he should know the other side of his soul if he was going to be living with it as a part of him he acknowledged.
Dumbledore's face seemed to change. It wasn't a change Harry recognized well, but knew it happened. "The sword was put down in history…as being named after its creators. The Chief Warlock and the Blacksmith were related, brothers actually. The sword was named for them. But because of the weapon's apparent adjustment of sides in the war of good and evil, it gained a prefix." Harry sat there watching the older man dance around the question like a 10 year old ballerina.
"The Sword's name is Dark Slyther."
Harry sat there, running this information through his mind. "However, the 'soul' of the sword that resides in you fashioned a name for itself. Nox Eternal, meaning 'forever night'."
Harry sat there, wanting to bang his head into a wall from information overload. It seemed Dumbledore saw this. "I know this is a lot, but there is something you will have to realize. Dark Slyther will steadily unlock more and more, gaining more consciousness the more negative emotions you experience. The more anger, pain, hate and sadness you experience, the more it comes out. Feelings of needing to protect someone or guilt will do this as well. And the more it awakens inside of you, the more it forces change to your body to make you prepared for said power.
So you will change, and you will become more physically powerful. Faster, stronger, more agile. But be careful. This power will take getting used to, and will need to be trained. Having little trained power is better than an abundance of raw power in what you are getting ready to do in this war. And this training will begin as the year does."
And wit these words Harry sighed, thankful it was all over in terms of these revelations. "Now, all we need to do is find a place for you to stay for the moment."
"I think I can stay here. None of the Death eaters know about this place or these people, and most of them didn't even recognize me. I think I'll be safe here.
Wards would be nice, but not too restricting and not at the exact moment, but I think I need to be around my friends. I already feel like a bastard for not contacting Hermione last night, but I couldn't with everything going on.
So I think if its okay with you, I will stay here. And maybe at some point I can go over and visit Hermione. With a guide or escort of some kind I guess."
Dumbledore nodded and smiled, the twinkle returning to his eyes. "You are maturing greatly Harry. I am proud of you. More than you will ever know." and then the older man stood, his tan safari shorts and blue Hawaii shirt a contrast from his usual clothing. His beard and mustache were trimmed greatly, and with the blue baseball hat he wore, oddly backwards, he looked like a very crazy Santa Claus. Harry suppressed this thought and went, shaking the man's hand before he left. However, Harry had one last question.
"Who got me out of the tub?"
Dumbledore turned and smiled knowingly. "I sensed something wrong, so I used a little spell that all teachers at Hogwarts have to learn that covers a student's, necessary parts, before entering the room and moving you."
Harry smiled and uttered a thanks before the older man left the room. And Harry went over, sat heavily on the bed and sighed loudly. He laid back and stared up at the ceiling. "So I am a weapon now truly. Makes sense I guess. But I figure, if I have to be someone's weapon, I might as well be able to do it right. The faster I get to the power level Dumbledore told me about, the faster I am able to kill that bastard, the sooner I can start my own life."
And with those words, Harry stood, jogging from the room to have one last talk with Dumbledore. The older man was just about the leave the house with Tonks walking him out when Harry got downstairs. "Wait!" He shouted and ran over to the door. "I think it'd be good if I got some kind of training in. What would you suggest?" Harry asked, his civility to the situation amazing even himself. He normally would have been pissed to the 15th power by then with finding this out, but he was calm about it.
"well, I guess anything physical you can do, do it. And perfect it as much as possible. Keep your emotions in check, and watch your back. Running would be a good idea to increase you agility, and try some kind of strength-training. There will be a number of things this year that are based on your physical strength and not just your mental strength in school this year, so its best you get used to the power you have."
Harry nodded before turning and heading into the living room area, hearing the TV blaring quite loudly. He was glad Dumbledore had thought to avoid any talk of magic even with the loud noises, as he wanted to explain nothing to his friends. At least not just yet.
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As he walked back into the living room area, he observed Heather laid out on the couch. Zoe was sitting on the couch, half laying, but with her back propped up so she could see the TV. Kirstin was sitting across her lap, reading a book, or trying to as Heather kept kicking the book every so often.
As soon as Harry entered the room, he smirked at them, none of them noticing his entry to the room. He slipped up behind the couch and caught Zoe's eyes. She smiled and motioned toward Heather, who was laying on her stomach, propped up halfway on her elbows. Harry slipped behind her and covered her eyes with his hands. She started as if she was going to panic, an action that didn't go unnoticed by the three other people in the room, but then she relaxed. She smiled and half mumbled, half moaned Harry's name. And this action made Harry smirk.
He noticed movement, but before he could turn to investigate, his hands were grabbed and he was pulled to the back of the couch, and eventually over the side. He was then pulled to he was laying on the couch on his side, and Heather snuggled her back up against his front in this position, going back to watching whatever was on the TV like nothing had happened.
Harry looked over to Zoe and Kirstin, who were now sitting on the loveseat across the room, Kirstin on the arm of the overstuffed chair, and Zoe in the actual seat. Kirstin was back to her book, or at least pretending she was reading it, as Zoe pretended to watch TV. But Harry knew they were both watching him and smirking. So he took one arm and wrapped it around Heather's lower waist, and to his surprise she took her hand and covered his with it and snuggled back into him a bit more with what sounded oddly like a purring sound before she was back caught up in the show.
Harry looked at Zoe and Kirstin, and they both raised an eyebrow at the same time, smirking mockingly. Harry rolled his eyes and then, instead of trying to watch the TV he closed his eyes and just felt Heather, the world for a little while. Allowing himself to just forget the world for a little while. He just calmed his mind and laid there, for once feeling like he was a normal teenager, with his friends and a girlfriend and a normal life…wait…
Harry's eyes shot open. He had just referred to Heather as his girlfriend. And as he wondered this, he wondered if that was such a bad thing.
What he didn't know was, this entire conversation with himself was not only playing in his head, but very softly out of his mouth. And right in Heather's ear. And she smiled softly and her hand took his on her waist and she intertwined their fingers together.
And within 20 minutes they were both asleep. And Zoe and Kirstin looked at them, smiling weakly. But triumphantly.
"You know, this time with him has been the only 2 times in a long while that she's been able to sleep. Its like, she only feels safe with him. Since the whole rape thing, she's been up and hyped off coffee. But he's like a calm for her. We might have been right. They need each other. Well, at least she needs him." Kirstin muttered.
"No, trust me. With what he's going through, he needs her just as much as she needs him." Tonks said as she entered the house, sitting on the floor next to the chair, observing Harry and Heather.
"So, what was up with the old guy?" Zoe asked bluntly. "He was Harry's great grandfather or something, huh?"
Tonks simply nodded. "Me and Harry got to go somewhere tomorrow. He wants to visit an old friend he didn't get to catch up with when he wanted to, so we are going to have a little reunion tomorrow." And with those words and a nod, the house quieted considerably, the TV's volume dropping slowly over time, just slowly enough for everyone to not notice so much. But there was one odd thing in the whole thing. The remote control was on the floor the whole time.
And Harry was having dreams of gold and angels. And as he heard the noise blaring and felt the form in front of him stirring from it, he willed it away. And the golden light blared, his deep emerald eyes flashing under the lids, golden light flashing across his lightning bolt scar.
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It was a weird feeling for Harry as he awoke. His eyes opened and he realized that, for the second time in a row, he had a good sleep. Actually, he had a great sleep.
He cracked his eyes open to feel some of Heather's hair tickling his nose. He smirked just slightly and then debated whether to wake her or not. Normally he wouldn't have, but he had to go to the bathroom. Badly.
And as he wondered this, she stirred in her sleep some, and rolled over on her back, her hand slipping from its hold on his to a more neutral one to her side, her other arm slipping off the side of the couch.
Harry sighed and then grabbed the arm of the couch, which was right above his head, and the back of the couch. He slipped his legs over the back of the couch and then pushed his upper body up and over the back of the couch. He sighed and then walked up the stairs to the bathroom.
He exited the bathroom to run into Kirstin. Literally. He smiled at her, as she did the same to him, and then he moved out of the way to let her into the bathroom. However, before she closed the door, she looked back at him as he walked away, and sighed softly. And as she closed the door and turned around, she smirked to herself. "Heather, you got a good one here. Damn well perfect, if not for you, then for me. You had better open your eyes girlie." And with that she turned on the shower, adjusting the water temperature.
From there, Harry went to his trunk, withdrawing his clothing for that day and then beginning to change. He had changed to the point that his pants were changed and he was going for his shirt when Heather and Zoe both stirred. It was odd, but literal moments after one, the other began to move.
Harry smiled before pulling the shirt on and grabbing his black hooded pullover in his hand and slipping a black baseball cap on his head and then headed toward the door. He thought it better to leave before having to confront anyone as to where he would be going for the day, he knew it would not cause a great uproar of approval with the three girls.
"
He had already arranged it with Dumbledore for his transportation on the Knight Bus, and there would be extra security watch on him as he moved from his current place to his destination.
And as he walked out of the house, he caught sight of J-Roc sitting on the porch, a guitar on his lap and his right hand strumming on it, a lit cigarette in between his fingers. There was an anger and a sadness around him that Harry could feel resonating from his friend.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked, slipping his hands into the little pocket on the front of the pullover after putting it on, staring forward, as was J-Roc.
"Robin." Was the other boy's answer before lifting the cigarette to his lips and talking a puff. The smoke was much thicker than the fog leaving Harry's mouth on the cold morning, the sun still M.I.A.
"What happened?" Harry more commented than asked.
"Gary happened."
And with that comment both boys continued motionlessly, J-Roc taking a breath from the cigarette every so often, Harry's breathing coming out almost consistently as J-Roc's.
A guy came walking by the front of the house, and then toward them, a long haired girl wrapped under his arm protectively.
"That him?" Harry asked matter-of-factly. J-Roc simply nodded, and yet, neither person moved.
Robin and Gary came up to the house, and they both looked at Harry and then J-Roc. Robin regarded them both. "Harry. Justin." with a nod and then she walked through the gap between the two. Gary followed, and kicked J-Roc in a way to make it seem accidental as he climbed the steps. However, the kick caused the seated boy to drop his cigarette and it flipped over, and burned his hand.
Muttering expletives, he shook his hand in pain. And Harry reacted as if the motion was pure instinct. Harry spun and slammed his fist into Gary's jaw, knocking the boy off his feet and off the porch and onto his back on the concrete.
And without even looking back at the consequences, Harry started down the street, fingering his wand that was tucked away safely in the side pocket on his pants.
Circling the block, Harry stuck his wand down the sleeve of his pullover and then stuck his arm out, summoning the Knight bus without making it look suspicious to anyone following him, and the bus appeared right as he turned the corner. He slipped on and told Stan his destination and the bus disappeared, just as Heather and Zoe rounded the corner, having been chasing him to make sure he would be ok.
Harry leaned back in thee seat on the bus, closing his eyes and exhaling slowly in another exhausted sigh. The person next to him lowered their raised newspaper and regarded him from behind the dark sunglasses.
Had to make such an entrance did you?"
"Shut up Tonks. If this is an omen of how this day is going, I'd rather go back to the Durs…" and his words drifted off as the realization hit once more that the Dursleys were, for better or worse, no longer a threat to Harry's happiness.
"Let's just hope Herms takes you stopping by at the crack of dawn as a sign that you couldn't wait to see her, and not a sign that you are a deranged stalker."
"Yeah…Let's cross our fingers, shall we?" And Harry went back to silence and Tonks went back to her paper. Or, she pretended to, as she still watched Harry out of the side of her sunglasses. Anyone looking wouldn't have been the wiser. But yet, a smirk appeared on Harry's otherwise emotionless face.
"Go back to reading your little Witches' Weekly hidden in the paper Tonks, and your crap article on 'how to find a good Wizard' and stop watching me, ok? Ok." and with that Harry was quiet again, his eyes never having opened since he took his seat on the bus.
"You are a strange one Potter." Tonks muttered to herself as she flipped the page in the magazine begrudgingly at Harry's mockery of her search for a good man.
Harry smiled to himself again, feeling the sun's peeking light as it inched over the horizon as the bus ground to a halt.
Knowing this was his stop, Harry stood and finally cracked open his eyes, Tonks following suit after folding her newspaper/magazine and placing it under her arm. She then followed Harry off the bus and onto the faintly illuminated sidewalk.
Tonks led the way across the street to a nice suburban home, clean cut and calculated in its layout and maintenance. Exactly as Hermione seemed to be…well, at school anyways. But, Harry had seen somewhere that everyone goes through their teenage rebellions differently, and he figured Hermione's was becoming as…anti-Hermione as possible.
Deciding not to read into it much, Harry adjusted his pullover around his body as the cold took little nips at every inch or exposed skin on his body. He walked up to the door as the sun rose behind him slowly, Tonks standing on the walkway still, observing the area silently.
Bringing his hand up, he wrapped on the door several times, and when nothing happened for a few minutes, he repeated the action. After some time, Harry turned to Tonks. "She does know we're coming…right?"
Tonks nodded, and Harry raised his hand and knocked once more. After some time, he was turning to leave when he heard a muffled voice through the door that he faintly recognized. "We don't want any girl scout cookies…" the voice said groggily before there was a click as the door unlocked before it was flung open by the small thin form behind the door.
It was actually comical as she stood there, much smaller than Harry was, her hair wrapped and tangled around her head, one lone tendril hanging down in front of her face as the rest either sat atop her head or around her neck. She was rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she stood in front of the door in her night shirt with little yellow rubber duckies on it, and matching shorts and slippers. She looked very innocent as she stood there, and this brought a smile to Harry's face.
She finally cleared her eyes and looked up at Harry as he stood there in her doorway, and she wondered what the hell whoever was standing there wanted. He was a tall form, and although fairly attractive, she did admit, it was barely dawn, and she had a weird fear to slam the door, lock it, and berate herself for not checking the eyehole before opening the door for a stranger.
But there was something about him…and he didn't seem like he was going to kill her or anything, so she pulled on the Gryffindor courage she supposedly had and opened her mouth to speak, albeit in a shaky voice.
"Uh…can I help you?
There was a moment where the sun was behind him head that disrupted her view of his face, something she hadn't gotten a truly good look at yet because of the darkness, and as that moment passed, the realization hit her like a truck.
Although much darker, she knew those eyes. Though longer, the midnight black hair was still the same. And though much taller and more filled out, the frame was still recognizable. And the scar across his eye may have been new, but the one in the center of his forehead, faded and hidden very well, was still there, as faint as it was.
And no matter how much he might have changed and have become a different person, and even as the dawning of a new day came and her sleepiness abandoned her, she could still tell who it was. The only thing that could have stopped her from ever recognizing him would be her complete focus on someone else or something else, or a rum 'n' cola or two. And missing both of these, she recognized him as clear as the sun rising behind him recognizes the sky as its home.
"Harry…?"
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A/N: Ok, there goes another chapter. Figured I'd end it on a fairly interesting note since a lot of people got all prissy at me about the whole Harry-Hermione interaction from the last chapter. So…here. Happy Now?
Now, here is my typical story comment. If you liked this chapter at all. I mean f'n period. Like, there was even a hinting of you giving a flying fu…you get it, well, thank Ms. Alia West. Were it not for her, I dare say this chapter would have been a load of crap. This past two weeks has been literal hell on me, and either this chapter would have not come for a loooooong time, or it would have been the lowest of the low in the realm of hell. This I feel is much better than it was, and that is with just some of her changes, I got too damn lazy to put them all…sorry Lordess, I shall do better next time….
But anyways, lemme know what you think, please fell free to contact me through e-mail or AIM, and another great amount of love to my AIM crew, ya'll know who you are. If I talk to you on AIM, then consider this chapter dedicated to you…oh, and the MSN people too. But above all, this is to Alia.
Oh, and Dark Mage 320…thanks for pointing me to the story. It's a great story called Highway To Hell by Master Eldryn. I really like it, and you should check it out. This is placed here in the intent that you will check it out after you have read this chapter. I'm all for promoting other's work, send me a link to yours, I'll check it out, might end up here in my soon to be created :TK's Story Reference List.
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A/N: okay, many people have wondered about last chapter. I figured I'd leave you all confused by the storyline and not a cliffhanger last chapter. So everything gets explained here. For those of you who like the chapter length last time, this might make you happy.
Also, this chapter will give a look in my idea as to why Big Bad Voldie can be beaten by Harry possibly. There's something in the Last Potter…you'll see.
Oh, and Alia, this is for you…lol, I don't do fluff…ok?
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Harry awoke the next morning, pain gripping his body like a cold glove grasping him in its smothering grip. But even with all of that, a light of calm was forcing a heat through the cold. And it was slipping up his fingers along his arm and heading toward his heart.
And as soon as it hit his heart, a blast of emotions hit him. They were complete opposites all at the same time. He felt pain but felt incredible pleasure. He felt sadness but felt like leaping up right then and there and jumping up and down in happiness.
And through all of this, the golden light he had seen not to long before in his dreams had exploded across the inside of his eyelids. And his eyes opened to the faint glow of the rising the sun. It was just to that point of beginning to peak over the horizon that it cast a dull sheen of gray on everything in the room.
Harry sat his head up slowly, and sighed one of those frustrated, mentally exhausted sighs. And as he prepared to stand up, Heather stirred slightly, and there was a slight tugging of their joined hands. And slowly her eyes squinted open. It wasn't so to the point that she was awake, but her consciousness was damn near tap dancing upon the borderline.
Harry gently released their clasped hands and headed toward his trunk. He reached down to open the top to find said top in his hand. He didn't remember undoing the lock, or lifting the top any. But the lock was laying on the floor and the top was in his hand. He lifted it and peered inside. he reached in, pulling out some clothing and a towel, along with his toothbrush and his toothpaste. He then headed up the stairs. He went looking and eventually found a bathroom. He entered it and turned the shower on, letting the water heat up.
Placing the toilet cover down, Harry sat down and placed his head in his hands. He sighed deeply and replayed everything that happened in the last few hours through his mind. He couldn't figure so much out. And the majority of it all stemmed from the black bass guitar he had charged into the fight with. There was something in him, or in it, that changed his very body, his heart and his soul.
It was like, after he leapt from that window, the world changed. It felt like the guitar he held was drawing something out of him, something buried deeply inside of him that he had never known was there. But had always been there. It was a feeling he got as it left him. Almost as if he had been wearing a mask that was ripped from him. He felt its loss even if he didn't know it was there to begin with.
He sighed as he moved his hands, feeling the steam thick in the air of the bathroom. He undressed and got into the shower, simply standing under the fairly hot rain of water for a few minutes, his head down and the water falling all over him.
As he did this, his mind slowed finally. Everything became normal again, nothing was going all too fast anymore. And this state made his mind calm to a point where he was in a sort of conscious sleep. He was still standing, but lost in a kind of deep day dream.
And as he spaced out, his mind was rushed with a literal out of body replay of every even that had transpired in the past few hours. And this showed him something he didn't know or realize before. Something had to be wrong for the Order to have seemingly abandoned him, and the rest of the Wizarding World too.
He made a mental note to ask Tonks later. But as he intended to come from his little mental rest and go back to the world, it was as if he was walking towards the door back to the Real World in a way, and a hand grabbed him and dragged him back to another door, another place in his mind.
And as he was brought here, he felt it.
He was back in the complete Darkness. He was back to being in the World of Dementors. But there was something wrong. Something was very different.
Because as soon as he seemingly "entered" the Darkness, something happened that had never happened before.
All the Dementors all turned to him.
And before him was a massive room full of the most disgusting, frighteningly shockingly evil eyes he had ever seen.
And even as he observed those vile eyes…He heard something. He heard something very very frightening.
The Dementors spoke. All at once, and all in a horrifying, pain-inducing, maniacal voice.
"Give us our souls…give us our lives. Give us what you took from us. NOOOOOOOOOOOW!!!!!"
And the droning NOW seemed to mute into a monotonous squeals and thus cause so much pain to Harry that he was literally thrown back to the world around him, his feet slipping and his footing losing its grip, and soon his body was falling backwards. And with a dull "thud" against the porcelain tub, the world went black, and thankfully, only black of unconsciousness.
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Harry opened his eyes some time later to the murmuring of voices. He cracked open his eyes to see a hazy golden sheen over his vision, but with his rapid blinking, this cleared up quickly, allowing him to see the concerned faces of those surrounding him. Zoe, Kirstin, Lindsey and of course, Heather. His eyes still felt heavy, and he made to close them again before the meory of his "episode" surfaced.
His eyes flew open and his hands moved to cover …himself…but upon placing his hands over the area, he found his body covered. He sighed in relief before wondering something. Who covered him exactly?
He finally worked his way toward a near-standing position. He staggered slightly, and the girls rushed to him to help him stand. He walked some more before finding he wasn't in the bathroom anymore, but in a bedroom, but in a bedroom.
He opened his mouth to ask how this had happened when the door opened and in walked Tonks. And behind her was a person Harry recognized immediately. Much faster than what his mind told him he should have been able to, as the transfiguration was flawless. And upon request from Tonks, the 5 girls left the room, so there were only two.
Harry,
And Albus Dumbledore.
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A/N: Some people saw this coming, some didn't. Well, it doesn't stop there.
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The man's eyes lacked all the usual bright happiness and love for life they used to have. Now, as the man stood in the room, his blue eyes seemed dead and for maybe the first time in his life, Harry saw the Headmaster avoiding Harry's eyes. A flick of his wand informed Harry of what he believed to be a sound-proofing charm, and a click told him the door was locked.
Dumbledore broke the silence.
"Harry…Harry…Harry. Once more I feel that I owe you an apology, this time a much greater one than before. There is a lot I must explain to you, and I fear that, after all of this is found out by you…everything will be different. Yes, you may be more informed…but also so much more resentful towards me.
I fear I may have lost your trust."
Harry eyed the older warlock warily. There was something about his countenance that alarmed Harry. He knew one thing, several things would be found out in this conversation that would change his life. So he took a seat on the bed, finding a pair of cotton sweatpants under him, he stood and pulled them on before sitting again, facing the older man.
"Let's see…I guess its best to start where all stories should start."
"And where is that?" Harry asked.
"The beginning my dear boy. The beginning."
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A/N: The next section is Dumbledore telling Harry this story. It will not be done in quotes, as Albus becomes the sort of narrator.
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////Story Start////
A very long time ago there was a king. He was powerful, respected and a strong force of good.
Now this was long ago, when magic was a force known all over, and it was still strong. It was still powerful. It was still connected to the Source…it was still pure.
Well, this king was fighting a war against dark forces. Something happened to his original sword, and he went to his Chief Warlock and Blacksmith for a new sword. A new weapon to engage the all too powerful enemy.
Now this king, he had the most powerful and loyal servants under him. And the Chief Warlock worked with the Blacksmith to create a weapon worthy of a king.
And after 2 years, it was created. The perfect weapon. Laced with such magic, such pure good magic, that anyone filled with malice and evil intent would be obliterated a mere touch of its power. And with this weapon, the king went into battle.
Attacking many enemies, the sword lived up to its purpose, and decimated half of the forces of evil alone. However, this was not without consequence. For you see, they say evil is not a person or an idea, but an entity. An energy. And muggle physics state energy can neither be created nor destroyed. Meaning, the power of this darkness had to go somewhere.
And soon the evil…or more accurately, pieces of the souls of the enemies the sword killed were drawn into it. And it steadily made the sword stronger…but it also made the sword begin to gain a conscious. It began to bring the sword to life.
Now the sword eventually grew so hungry, feeding off of the evil of its enemies, that it sucked their souls out, feeding on the power it gave it. Now, the sword was inherently good, so it could not deviate from that, but as a bi-product of losing their soul in that matter…something odd happened.
Now they are called Dementors.
Yes, the origin of Dementors is all due to that one weapon. Dementors, evil warriors missing their souls and forever cursed to have to wonder forever missing their souls and having to live off of the happy memories projected by others…slowly sucking others' souls away to feed their lack.
Now that is not the true story here. It was believed that the power of the sword was too great. And because the more power one gains, the easier it is to corrupt, the sword was worried about. Also it's dark presence was becoming a liability to the King. So the sword was locked away.
And over time the sword began to lose power. Well, not lose as much as forget its abilities. And over time, the sword slipped from legends, overshadowed by its replacement in history. So many people never knew about this.
////Story Break////
"And might I ask what the hell this has to do with me?" Harry asks, running the story through his head and finding no way this could relate to him.
"Then allow me to continue."
////Story Continues////
Now, it was a big secret where the weapon was stored. You probably didn't know what your father did. Well, truth is, you father was a very famous and successful Cursebreaker. And during one of his missions, he unearthed the weapon. And because he could sense the power he had, he brought it to me.
Finding out a fraction, a mere portion of the surface power it possessed, I placed it in the hands of your parents for hiding as they went under Fidelius.
Now, something few knew about your mother was, she was a very interesting case in the world of Divination. She didn't believe in it. At all. She actually made Miss Granger seem like a devout follower of said magical subject in comparison. But the dilemma was, she was arguably the most powerful Dream Seer in the past century. Her Dreams were often prophetic, and not until their hiding had she begun to read up on this ability. And not until the final point in her life did she finally come to terms with the power she herself held.
The weapon was stored with them when Lily had a Dream. This one showed Voldemort coming, and Lily knew there was no way for them to get away from this. But she also saw the severity of the situation that would arise should the man formally known as Tom Riddle get his hands on the Sword.
So, she found something very odd. There was a long-standing investigation on what Muggles call Imaginary Friends that the Ministry's MMI, MMI standing for Muggle Myth Investigation, department got a hold of. Your mother was head of this department, her roots gaining her a great advantage in this.
Upon her research into this topic, she found it possible to forcibly disembody a soul, and to join a soul to something else, usually, actually always something inanimate.
Now, I had voiced to them before they accepted the weapon into their home that there was some type of soul underneath, which was what held the true power of the weapon. So she knew the sword had a soul in it, but yet she still intended to allow it in anyways. So just hours before Voldemort arrived at Godric's Hollow, she did something very risky. But all too important.
She disembodied the soul of the sword and bonded it to something else.
"And what would that be exactly?" Harry asked lamely.
"That…would be you Harry."
////Story End////
The room grew deathly quiet. It was all too lonely inside his own head. All there was was the screaming. The angered, pained, violated screaming.
"And Harry…this means that there is a power in you greater than one person could usually possess. But it will not come out in its entirety for a long while and over a long process. But if…no, when these powers actually come out in full force, it would be possible for you to destroy Voldemort with something as remedial-seeming as a full-body bind."
Dumbledore paused for a short while to let Harry take that all in before continuing on.
"But that is not why I am here. I am here in fact to inform you of a growingly difficult situation. You see, in the Wizarding community at the moment, issues have arisen about your custody battle. And since the events of last night, the fight for your custody has reached a fever pitch. And I daresay things are going very wrong.
News of these developments could not be brought to your attention, as we now see there was a freeze on all owl post on Number 4 for a long while. Actually not specifically Number 4, but more on you. No owl coming to you could be guided to you. Which may have been why you might have noticed Hedwig having gone missing after delivering your monetary transfer from Gringotts'.
On top of this, it seems that the Death Eaters breaking into your house had no intent of engaging you. It seemed that the Go-To was dropped off in your room in the expectation that you would be missing. It seemed that the panic the Dark Forces caused in killing the Dursleys was intentional."
"But all those Death Eaters for 3 muggles? Something else had to be wrong."
"Exactly." Dumbledore smiled at Harry's quick thinking and deducting skills. "they were to patrol Privet Drive, killing everyone in the area. Then they intended to pin it on you. That way, you are in muggle prison instead of Hogwarts. And a much easier target."
Harry sat there, running everything through his mind. He had just been informed a centuries old, possibly older, super-powerful weapon had grown a soul fro killing people, and said soul was now joined to his own. Then his owl post had been blocked, and he had just escaped a stint in Muggle Prison for possibly up to a few centuries, until he was as old as the damned sword.
"What was the sword's name?" Harry asked. He didn't know why he asked this, but it seemed that it was expected for him to ask a question, and he figured he should know the other side of his soul if he was going to be living with it as a part of him he acknowledged.
Dumbledore's face seemed to change. It wasn't a change Harry recognized well, but knew it happened. "The sword was put down in history…as being named after its creators. The Chief Warlock and the Blacksmith were related, brothers actually. The sword was named for them. But because of the weapon's apparent adjustment of sides in the war of good and evil, it gained a prefix." Harry sat there watching the older man dance around the question like a 10 year old ballerina.
"The Sword's name is Dark Slyther."
Harry sat there, running this information through his mind. "However, the 'soul' of the sword that resides in you fashioned a name for itself. Nox Eternal, meaning 'forever night'."
Harry sat there, wanting to bang his head into a wall from information overload. It seemed Dumbledore saw this. "I know this is a lot, but there is something you will have to realize. Dark Slyther will steadily unlock more and more, gaining more consciousness the more negative emotions you experience. The more anger, pain, hate and sadness you experience, the more it comes out. Feelings of needing to protect someone or guilt will do this as well. And the more it awakens inside of you, the more it forces change to your body to make you prepared for said power.
So you will change, and you will become more physically powerful. Faster, stronger, more agile. But be careful. This power will take getting used to, and will need to be trained. Having little trained power is better than an abundance of raw power in what you are getting ready to do in this war. And this training will begin as the year does."
And wit these words Harry sighed, thankful it was all over in terms of these revelations. "Now, all we need to do is find a place for you to stay for the moment."
"I think I can stay here. None of the Death eaters know about this place or these people, and most of them didn't even recognize me. I think I'll be safe here.
Wards would be nice, but not too restricting and not at the exact moment, but I think I need to be around my friends. I already feel like a bastard for not contacting Hermione last night, but I couldn't with everything going on.
So I think if its okay with you, I will stay here. And maybe at some point I can go over and visit Hermione. With a guide or escort of some kind I guess."
Dumbledore nodded and smiled, the twinkle returning to his eyes. "You are maturing greatly Harry. I am proud of you. More than you will ever know." and then the older man stood, his tan safari shorts and blue Hawaii shirt a contrast from his usual clothing. His beard and mustache were trimmed greatly, and with the blue baseball hat he wore, oddly backwards, he looked like a very crazy Santa Claus. Harry suppressed this thought and went, shaking the man's hand before he left. However, Harry had one last question.
"Who got me out of the tub?"
Dumbledore turned and smiled knowingly. "I sensed something wrong, so I used a little spell that all teachers at Hogwarts have to learn that covers a student's, necessary parts, before entering the room and moving you."
Harry smiled and uttered a thanks before the older man left the room. And Harry went over, sat heavily on the bed and sighed loudly. He laid back and stared up at the ceiling. "So I am a weapon now truly. Makes sense I guess. But I figure, if I have to be someone's weapon, I might as well be able to do it right. The faster I get to the power level Dumbledore told me about, the faster I am able to kill that bastard, the sooner I can start my own life."
And with those words, Harry stood, jogging from the room to have one last talk with Dumbledore. The older man was just about the leave the house with Tonks walking him out when Harry got downstairs. "Wait!" He shouted and ran over to the door. "I think it'd be good if I got some kind of training in. What would you suggest?" Harry asked, his civility to the situation amazing even himself. He normally would have been pissed to the 15th power by then with finding this out, but he was calm about it.
"well, I guess anything physical you can do, do it. And perfect it as much as possible. Keep your emotions in check, and watch your back. Running would be a good idea to increase you agility, and try some kind of strength-training. There will be a number of things this year that are based on your physical strength and not just your mental strength in school this year, so its best you get used to the power you have."
Harry nodded before turning and heading into the living room area, hearing the TV blaring quite loudly. He was glad Dumbledore had thought to avoid any talk of magic even with the loud noises, as he wanted to explain nothing to his friends. At least not just yet.
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As he walked back into the living room area, he observed Heather laid out on the couch. Zoe was sitting on the couch, half laying, but with her back propped up so she could see the TV. Kirstin was sitting across her lap, reading a book, or trying to as Heather kept kicking the book every so often.
As soon as Harry entered the room, he smirked at them, none of them noticing his entry to the room. He slipped up behind the couch and caught Zoe's eyes. She smiled and motioned toward Heather, who was laying on her stomach, propped up halfway on her elbows. Harry slipped behind her and covered her eyes with his hands. She started as if she was going to panic, an action that didn't go unnoticed by the three other people in the room, but then she relaxed. She smiled and half mumbled, half moaned Harry's name. And this action made Harry smirk.
He noticed movement, but before he could turn to investigate, his hands were grabbed and he was pulled to the back of the couch, and eventually over the side. He was then pulled to he was laying on the couch on his side, and Heather snuggled her back up against his front in this position, going back to watching whatever was on the TV like nothing had happened.
Harry looked over to Zoe and Kirstin, who were now sitting on the loveseat across the room, Kirstin on the arm of the overstuffed chair, and Zoe in the actual seat. Kirstin was back to her book, or at least pretending she was reading it, as Zoe pretended to watch TV. But Harry knew they were both watching him and smirking. So he took one arm and wrapped it around Heather's lower waist, and to his surprise she took her hand and covered his with it and snuggled back into him a bit more with what sounded oddly like a purring sound before she was back caught up in the show.
Harry looked at Zoe and Kirstin, and they both raised an eyebrow at the same time, smirking mockingly. Harry rolled his eyes and then, instead of trying to watch the TV he closed his eyes and just felt Heather, the world for a little while. Allowing himself to just forget the world for a little while. He just calmed his mind and laid there, for once feeling like he was a normal teenager, with his friends and a girlfriend and a normal life…wait…
Harry's eyes shot open. He had just referred to Heather as his girlfriend. And as he wondered this, he wondered if that was such a bad thing.
What he didn't know was, this entire conversation with himself was not only playing in his head, but very softly out of his mouth. And right in Heather's ear. And she smiled softly and her hand took his on her waist and she intertwined their fingers together.
And within 20 minutes they were both asleep. And Zoe and Kirstin looked at them, smiling weakly. But triumphantly.
"You know, this time with him has been the only 2 times in a long while that she's been able to sleep. Its like, she only feels safe with him. Since the whole rape thing, she's been up and hyped off coffee. But he's like a calm for her. We might have been right. They need each other. Well, at least she needs him." Kirstin muttered.
"No, trust me. With what he's going through, he needs her just as much as she needs him." Tonks said as she entered the house, sitting on the floor next to the chair, observing Harry and Heather.
"So, what was up with the old guy?" Zoe asked bluntly. "He was Harry's great grandfather or something, huh?"
Tonks simply nodded. "Me and Harry got to go somewhere tomorrow. He wants to visit an old friend he didn't get to catch up with when he wanted to, so we are going to have a little reunion tomorrow." And with those words and a nod, the house quieted considerably, the TV's volume dropping slowly over time, just slowly enough for everyone to not notice so much. But there was one odd thing in the whole thing. The remote control was on the floor the whole time.
And Harry was having dreams of gold and angels. And as he heard the noise blaring and felt the form in front of him stirring from it, he willed it away. And the golden light blared, his deep emerald eyes flashing under the lids, golden light flashing across his lightning bolt scar.
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It was a weird feeling for Harry as he awoke. His eyes opened and he realized that, for the second time in a row, he had a good sleep. Actually, he had a great sleep.
He cracked his eyes open to feel some of Heather's hair tickling his nose. He smirked just slightly and then debated whether to wake her or not. Normally he wouldn't have, but he had to go to the bathroom. Badly.
And as he wondered this, she stirred in her sleep some, and rolled over on her back, her hand slipping from its hold on his to a more neutral one to her side, her other arm slipping off the side of the couch.
Harry sighed and then grabbed the arm of the couch, which was right above his head, and the back of the couch. He slipped his legs over the back of the couch and then pushed his upper body up and over the back of the couch. He sighed and then walked up the stairs to the bathroom.
He exited the bathroom to run into Kirstin. Literally. He smiled at her, as she did the same to him, and then he moved out of the way to let her into the bathroom. However, before she closed the door, she looked back at him as he walked away, and sighed softly. And as she closed the door and turned around, she smirked to herself. "Heather, you got a good one here. Damn well perfect, if not for you, then for me. You had better open your eyes girlie." And with that she turned on the shower, adjusting the water temperature.
From there, Harry went to his trunk, withdrawing his clothing for that day and then beginning to change. He had changed to the point that his pants were changed and he was going for his shirt when Heather and Zoe both stirred. It was odd, but literal moments after one, the other began to move.
Harry smiled before pulling the shirt on and grabbing his black hooded pullover in his hand and slipping a black baseball cap on his head and then headed toward the door. He thought it better to leave before having to confront anyone as to where he would be going for the day, he knew it would not cause a great uproar of approval with the three girls.
"
He had already arranged it with Dumbledore for his transportation on the Knight Bus, and there would be extra security watch on him as he moved from his current place to his destination.
And as he walked out of the house, he caught sight of J-Roc sitting on the porch, a guitar on his lap and his right hand strumming on it, a lit cigarette in between his fingers. There was an anger and a sadness around him that Harry could feel resonating from his friend.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked, slipping his hands into the little pocket on the front of the pullover after putting it on, staring forward, as was J-Roc.
"Robin." Was the other boy's answer before lifting the cigarette to his lips and talking a puff. The smoke was much thicker than the fog leaving Harry's mouth on the cold morning, the sun still M.I.A.
"What happened?" Harry more commented than asked.
"Gary happened."
And with that comment both boys continued motionlessly, J-Roc taking a breath from the cigarette every so often, Harry's breathing coming out almost consistently as J-Roc's.
A guy came walking by the front of the house, and then toward them, a long haired girl wrapped under his arm protectively.
"That him?" Harry asked matter-of-factly. J-Roc simply nodded, and yet, neither person moved.
Robin and Gary came up to the house, and they both looked at Harry and then J-Roc. Robin regarded them both. "Harry. Justin." with a nod and then she walked through the gap between the two. Gary followed, and kicked J-Roc in a way to make it seem accidental as he climbed the steps. However, the kick caused the seated boy to drop his cigarette and it flipped over, and burned his hand.
Muttering expletives, he shook his hand in pain. And Harry reacted as if the motion was pure instinct. Harry spun and slammed his fist into Gary's jaw, knocking the boy off his feet and off the porch and onto his back on the concrete.
And without even looking back at the consequences, Harry started down the street, fingering his wand that was tucked away safely in the side pocket on his pants.
Circling the block, Harry stuck his wand down the sleeve of his pullover and then stuck his arm out, summoning the Knight bus without making it look suspicious to anyone following him, and the bus appeared right as he turned the corner. He slipped on and told Stan his destination and the bus disappeared, just as Heather and Zoe rounded the corner, having been chasing him to make sure he would be ok.
Harry leaned back in thee seat on the bus, closing his eyes and exhaling slowly in another exhausted sigh. The person next to him lowered their raised newspaper and regarded him from behind the dark sunglasses.
Had to make such an entrance did you?"
"Shut up Tonks. If this is an omen of how this day is going, I'd rather go back to the Durs…" and his words drifted off as the realization hit once more that the Dursleys were, for better or worse, no longer a threat to Harry's happiness.
"Let's just hope Herms takes you stopping by at the crack of dawn as a sign that you couldn't wait to see her, and not a sign that you are a deranged stalker."
"Yeah…Let's cross our fingers, shall we?" And Harry went back to silence and Tonks went back to her paper. Or, she pretended to, as she still watched Harry out of the side of her sunglasses. Anyone looking wouldn't have been the wiser. But yet, a smirk appeared on Harry's otherwise emotionless face.
"Go back to reading your little Witches' Weekly hidden in the paper Tonks, and your crap article on 'how to find a good Wizard' and stop watching me, ok? Ok." and with that Harry was quiet again, his eyes never having opened since he took his seat on the bus.
"You are a strange one Potter." Tonks muttered to herself as she flipped the page in the magazine begrudgingly at Harry's mockery of her search for a good man.
Harry smiled to himself again, feeling the sun's peeking light as it inched over the horizon as the bus ground to a halt.
Knowing this was his stop, Harry stood and finally cracked open his eyes, Tonks following suit after folding her newspaper/magazine and placing it under her arm. She then followed Harry off the bus and onto the faintly illuminated sidewalk.
Tonks led the way across the street to a nice suburban home, clean cut and calculated in its layout and maintenance. Exactly as Hermione seemed to be…well, at school anyways. But, Harry had seen somewhere that everyone goes through their teenage rebellions differently, and he figured Hermione's was becoming as…anti-Hermione as possible.
Deciding not to read into it much, Harry adjusted his pullover around his body as the cold took little nips at every inch or exposed skin on his body. He walked up to the door as the sun rose behind him slowly, Tonks standing on the walkway still, observing the area silently.
Bringing his hand up, he wrapped on the door several times, and when nothing happened for a few minutes, he repeated the action. After some time, Harry turned to Tonks. "She does know we're coming…right?"
Tonks nodded, and Harry raised his hand and knocked once more. After some time, he was turning to leave when he heard a muffled voice through the door that he faintly recognized. "We don't want any girl scout cookies…" the voice said groggily before there was a click as the door unlocked before it was flung open by the small thin form behind the door.
It was actually comical as she stood there, much smaller than Harry was, her hair wrapped and tangled around her head, one lone tendril hanging down in front of her face as the rest either sat atop her head or around her neck. She was rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she stood in front of the door in her night shirt with little yellow rubber duckies on it, and matching shorts and slippers. She looked very innocent as she stood there, and this brought a smile to Harry's face.
She finally cleared her eyes and looked up at Harry as he stood there in her doorway, and she wondered what the hell whoever was standing there wanted. He was a tall form, and although fairly attractive, she did admit, it was barely dawn, and she had a weird fear to slam the door, lock it, and berate herself for not checking the eyehole before opening the door for a stranger.
But there was something about him…and he didn't seem like he was going to kill her or anything, so she pulled on the Gryffindor courage she supposedly had and opened her mouth to speak, albeit in a shaky voice.
"Uh…can I help you?
There was a moment where the sun was behind him head that disrupted her view of his face, something she hadn't gotten a truly good look at yet because of the darkness, and as that moment passed, the realization hit her like a truck.
Although much darker, she knew those eyes. Though longer, the midnight black hair was still the same. And though much taller and more filled out, the frame was still recognizable. And the scar across his eye may have been new, but the one in the center of his forehead, faded and hidden very well, was still there, as faint as it was.
And no matter how much he might have changed and have become a different person, and even as the dawning of a new day came and her sleepiness abandoned her, she could still tell who it was. The only thing that could have stopped her from ever recognizing him would be her complete focus on someone else or something else, or a rum 'n' cola or two. And missing both of these, she recognized him as clear as the sun rising behind him recognizes the sky as its home.
"Harry…?"
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A/N: Ok, there goes another chapter. Figured I'd end it on a fairly interesting note since a lot of people got all prissy at me about the whole Harry-Hermione interaction from the last chapter. So…here. Happy Now?
Now, here is my typical story comment. If you liked this chapter at all. I mean f'n period. Like, there was even a hinting of you giving a flying fu…you get it, well, thank Ms. Alia West. Were it not for her, I dare say this chapter would have been a load of crap. This past two weeks has been literal hell on me, and either this chapter would have not come for a loooooong time, or it would have been the lowest of the low in the realm of hell. This I feel is much better than it was, and that is with just some of her changes, I got too damn lazy to put them all…sorry Lordess, I shall do better next time….
But anyways, lemme know what you think, please fell free to contact me through e-mail or AIM, and another great amount of love to my AIM crew, ya'll know who you are. If I talk to you on AIM, then consider this chapter dedicated to you…oh, and the MSN people too. But above all, this is to Alia.
Oh, and Dark Mage 320…thanks for pointing me to the story. It's a great story called Highway To Hell by Master Eldryn. I really like it, and you should check it out. This is placed here in the intent that you will check it out after you have read this chapter. I'm all for promoting other's work, send me a link to yours, I'll check it out, might end up here in my soon to be created :TK's Story Reference List.
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