A/N: There will not be a pairing in this story. My Harry is solo and don't you forget it!!!

Chapter Nine

Negative One Duck

Harry Potter became an assassin because his Aunt Petunia. When he was six, two men came to Number Four Privet Drive and introduced themselves to her. They were kind, polite, and complemented her on her spotless house. Petunia was immediately smitten, and after a few visits agreed to have Harry go to their boarding school. It had the advantage of getting rid of the boy for eleven months out of the year, and silencing any comparisons teachers might make. (After all, Dudley was her baby boy, why should he have to share the school with his cousin?)

And Dudley couldn't go to boarding school, Vernon wouldn't have it. So every year Harry returned for a month. He was kind, and polite; and Petunia thanked the heavens that the place seemed to instill a sense of manners in him. In return they moved him in Dudley's second bedroom, and she treated Harry with a smile once in a while, even if she never would admit it.

Petunia never knew that Harry never felt safer than when weeding her garden.

8 8 8 8 8 8 8

He was asleep but not dreaming, his mind in that strange place just before waking. These are the Soft Places of Dream's realm. Most of the time, people forget about them shortly after waking. Harry was with Delirium and they were huddled on the ground over a game drawn in chalk. If asked, Harry would not be able to explain how it was played, there weren't really any rules, and it was only instinct that told them what to do. He could say that it was played with half a deck of cards, fifteen marbles, a pair of dice and a rubber duck.

The rubber duck was winning.

"You'll be leaving soon. I miss you sometimes. It's the school, you go far away in the school,

and sometimes I can find you,

but most of the time you keep me away." Delirium said.

Harry bobbed his head, coming up with an ace and moving his blue marble four spaces downways.

"I don't really remember anything. But I sort of do. You know? Of course you know. But even if I remember, and even if I forget, it doesn't change the truth. You were still the first."

Delirium smiled. "You understand. That's nice, that's always what makes you nice." She fiddled with her her new necklace. "You'll be leaving now, even though neither of us wants that. Episkey."

Crack

A sharp noise woke Harry quickly and he reached under his pillow to pull out the knife he kept underneath. He could sense something to the side, so he threw it. But that something was smaller than he was expecting, so Harry adjusted his aim just to the left. It wouldn't do to kill a child. He heard a small squeal, and got up to get a proper look at his unwanted visitor.

It was an odd small brown creature with large eyes and floppy ears. One of the ears had a large gash in it, Harry's knife had gone right through. If he hadn't adjusted his aim, it would have connected with the thing's head. The creature's eyes were filled with tears, and Harry felt a small amount of pity for it. On the other hand, it was uninvited. Harry bent down to the thing, and spoke.

"I don't know what you are. I don't know who you are. I do know I didn't invite you. So I want nothing to do with you. I see you again, I won't be so nice."

The thing looked terrified, and Harry thought that the blood loss might be affecting its brain. He pulled out his wand, uncertain of what to do, and then the word just popped out of his mouth. "Episkey." And the cut healed up. And then the thing got up, and gave a small bow and spoke.

"Dobby just wanted to say that Harry Potter must be careful. Danger at Hogwarts." The thing was going to say more, but it caught a look at Harry's solemn face and disappeared. Harry took a deep breath, scanning the room, but sensing nothing else. The Leaky Cauldron was a comfortable sort of place, but this unwanted interruption made Harry unhappy. But he knew that spending anymore time on Privet Drive was a bad idea, Uncle Vernon had been driving him crazy enough.

But when Harry went down to the dining room he was in for a pleasant surprise, emerging from the fireplace was Fred Weasley. He found Ron among the other redheads gathered there.

"Oh, good, I told mum you'd be here, but I don't think that she believed the Muggles would let you stay. I think she wants you to come with us for the rest of the time. Mum, this is Harry."

A woman was brushing off the soot on a young girl, whom Harry believed to be Ron's sister. The woman stopped and looked at Harry, examining him in a way that felt quite unfamiliar. "Pleasure to meet you Harry, dear. Ron's told us all about you. I must insist that you stay with us, I daresay that you would like to spend some more time with Ron before schools starts."

The idea of staying in someone else's home made Harry uncomfortable, and he had every intention of refusing her invitation. But before he could come up with a polite way to protest she had already walked out to the Leaky Cauldron. The twins stood on either side of Harry, using this opportunity for a private chat. As it turns out they had borrowed Ron's knife once last year to break into Snape's private stores.

"So we were hoping to get one of our own. The problem is that the sort of thing is probably found in Knockturn Alley…"

"And mum won't let us go there. So maybe you could get us a couple?" Fred questioned. "We might not have enough money, but I'm sure there is something that we could do for a nice devious chap like yourself."

Harry relented, getting a future favor out of them as payment. He did not have to go down Knockturn Alley, but he wasn't going to tell them that. It was actually located in a supply store for keepers of magical creatures. The knife was an emergency tool to be used if accidentally locked in a cage with a dangerous Acromantula or something like that. The store manager looked suspiciously at Harry but didn't say anything. He bought five, these things were popular and would probably have to give more out. He also gave the store manager extra money, hoping that it would inspire him to keep his mouth shut.

He met the Weasley's at the bookstore, all of them looking flushed and excited. Ron was patting his dad on the back and spoke when he caught of Harry.

"You just missed it, Dad got in a fight with Malfoy's father." Harry scowled, he would have loved to see the elder Malfoy in person. After all of Draco's posturing he felt as if he knew the man. Ron misinterpreted his face.

"Don't worry. Dad got a good wallop on him. He didn't even see him coming"

Upon entering the Leaky Cauldron he saw Mrs. Weasley had already sent down for Harry's things. He hadn't even opened his mouth to protest when she handed him the bag of Floo powder. Looking from his hand to her face, Harry snapped his mouth shut and stepped towards the fireplace. He knew a lost battle with he saw one.

It turned out to be a good thing. The Burrow had a certain carelessness to it that Harry had never seen in a home. The Dursleys' was clean and precise, and the other places he lived all had a sense that he could pack up and leave in five minutes. He was sharing a room with Ron, which was colored Cannons orange. For some reason, the chaotic look of the room felt oddly comforting to Harry. He tossed his things into the room before going to look at the rest of the house.

He learned that Percy had his own room, where everything was worn but neat. The twins' room had a light silencing charm placed on it for everyone's hearing benefit, and there was an awful-smelling ghoul in the attic above Ron. And then he ran into the girl, Ron introduced her as Ginny.

When he heard her name, his eyes were shaded with a strange rose sort of color. And then if faded, but much to Harry's befuddlement Ginny's face stayed a perfect cherry pink. It took a moment to sink in, and then he realized she was blushing. Feeling uncomfortable, he said a polite hello, just as she was entering into her bedroom. Her shock caused her to smack right into the door, and while he was aware, he felt no need to draw attention to it, feeling the need to hide himself. Excusing himself, Harry ducked into the bathroom and leaned against the wall. He needed to clear his mind.

The colors didn't exist. When he was young, before he met the two assassins, he knew things that he shouldn't, a premonition would creep over him. But the colors only had begun to appear after he had spent sometime with them, so he knew that it wasn't real. Harry knew part of him wasn't sane. So most of what he knew was only through experience, and what he had gleaned off of other sources. Unless Harry was extremely mistaken, he had just met his soul mate.

The thought made him ill.

He barely knew her name, and now he knew this, something that would define the rest of his life. Harry planned to hide in the bathroom, and when everyone was a dinner, grab his things and run for it. But then his stomach grumbled, and his nose caught the smell of something delicious, and his legs took him downstairs despite it all.

Life wasn't fair sometimes.

But the world didn't hate him, because nobody noticed Ginny stick her elbow in the butter dish. And he was placed next the Ron's father, who seemed even more Muggle crazy than Ron described. That Harry was Muggle raised gave him a great delight and he peppered Harry with questions the entire meal.

"Can you tell me, exactly what is the purpose of a rubber duck?" Harry chuckled, the laughed until his eyes watered. The rest of the family had gone silent, looking at him with concern (Percy) and amusement (Ron). Noticing that he never answered the question, Harry spoke.

"Why to play games of course," he knew this was true.

"Games? How delightful! What kind?"

"Any kind you want." A serene smile appeared on Harry's lips. "But mostly the winning kind."

Harry ended up enjoying his week at The Burrow, he never had another strange experience when Ginny was around, although she continued to be clumsy. Mrs. Weasley was making Ron pack the night before, which caused him to be in quite the foul mood. Taking the opportunity to visit the town nearby with the twins seemed like a good option, his ears were already beginning to ring.

It turns out that Fred and George could pack quickly, they reminded each other of items the other had forgotten. They entered at toyshop, the twins disappearing into the selves, and Harry was left to wander on his own. Passing an aisle filled with plush animals, he came upon one that was filled with cheap plastic toys, and at the end was a set of ten rubber ducks. He stopped in front of them, and dug his hands into his pockets, finding that he had enough money. Summoning his nerve, he bought it, and refused to answer George to what was in the bag the entire way back. At dinner, Fred was the one who didn't let it go.

"So are you going to tell us what was in the bag Harry?"

"Don't you have fireworks to pack or something?" Harry muttered, gritting his teeth, for a brief moment understood why Ron felt overwhelmed by his brothers. George nudged his elbow into Fred and muttered, "We do have to finish packing. And I'd hate for a firework to be left behind."

The next day they all climbed into Mr. Weasley's car heading for the Hogwarts Express, Harry was amused to note it was charmed. Fortunately, they only had to return once to pick up Ginny's diary and were not late. But saying goodbye to so many children took some time, and Harry took a few of steps back to give them some privacy.

Mrs. Weasley managed to surprise him though; he wasn't quite certain how she managed to cross the distance. She gave him a brief hug, brushing her fingers on his head, and murmuring for him to comb his hair. Harry said nothing, his arms useless against his sides. He said goodbye to her, not meeting her eyes, then beat a hasty walk to find Blaise.

When Mr. And Mrs. Weasley returned that night they found a large basin of water with nine floating ducks. Each duck was given a name of the Weasley family on the duck's back. They delighted Mr. Weasley, he kept poking them down, and watching them bob to the surface, Mrs. Weasley called out from the kitchen.

"It must have been his way of saying thank you, I noticed that he seemed a bit uncomfortable saying goodbye. A little odd, if not sweet."

"Molly, there is something written on the bottom of the ducks as well! I think it some sort of message." He was right.

When they were lined up by oldest to youngest Weasley the ducks read:

The games will never end. Thank you for everything.

Tucked into a trunk was the last duck from the set of ten. It was going to Hogwarts, neatly labeled with Harry's name. He was looking out the window hoping that one day he might have the courage to add it with the others.