Disclaimer: not mine

Chapter 3

Harry leant against the window, staring out at the quiet neighbourhood, the incredible heat keeping all but the most foolish or desperate inside. It was the worst heatwave in a century at least and while there had been no reports, something told him it had to do with Voldemort's return, somehow. He'd been stuck at the Dursley's for weeks now and with barely any contact from anyone, he'd been right when he'd assumed Dumbledore wouldn't let him out so early despite Mrs Weasley's optimism. It didn't help that he felt like he was being watched, it was why he'd taken to keeping his curtains as closed as possible.

He felt restless, caged, and that made sense but…not all of it was coming from him. He'd used his Champion privileges last year to access the Restricted section, much to Hermione's frustration so he'd gotten her a book or two, but his research hadn't been for the Tournament, it had been to try and work out why he sometimes felt things that didn't come from him or Riddle. The things he'd found though…he didn't have a twin or soulmate…well he could only definitely rule out having a twin but the other sounded too much like a silly romance novel. There were a few other options, all just as crazy as the rest…maybe that was the answer, maybe he was just crazy.

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Sirius sat at the desk in the master bedroom of his childhood home. He hated being trapped there but what else could he do? He had offered the place as a meeting spot for the Order and yet somehow it had been turned into a safehouse, the Weasley's and Miss Granger being moved in immediately…and yet Harry was being left at the Muggles. The house was under the Fidelius, much safer than that place, especially with how well his family protected their properties. Dumbledore insisted Harry was safest at his relatives home under the blood wards…but he was positive Harry had said the rat used his blood in the ritual…which would surely mean the blood protection had been breached.

There was so little he could do but worry about Harry because what thirteen-year-old boy would jump so immediately on an offer to go live with a stranger and one just escaped from prison at that? And he'd spoken with the Weasley kids, the twins had been rather informative, what loving family put bars on a kids windows…and only that one kid? If they were worried about crime they would have put them on both boys windows. No, that was not a safe or healthy home.

How disappointed James and Lily must be in him, he'd failed everything so badly. Riku was gone, most probably dead, and Harry was being raised in a way they never would have wanted. He knew the twins weren't meant to be placed with Petunia, ever, no matter what happened, Lily had been very firm on that. He'd asked Albus about their wills and had gotten the run around. There was something fishy going on and he didn't like it at all, but what could he do without his freedom…

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She walked along the dark forest path lined with flowers on both sides, the flowers were new but nothing else really ever changed… She gasped as something in front of her caught her eye. "Could it be?" She stared at the magnificent castle in the distance, she knew that castle…when had that World fallen to Darkness? How? Why? Vanitas had been defeated, the Unversed surely gone with him, Master Xehanort? She took a deep breath and began moving towards the castle.

"Why is Cinderella's world...here in the darkness?" the Darkness was so silent she'd taken to speaking aloud, worried about going slowly insane without hearing a voice, even if it was only her own.

A group of small wriggling black creatures appeared in front of her and she summoned Master Eraqus' Keyblade to fight them. She didn't know what they were but they were everywhere in this Realm.

"There's no "time" in the realm of darkness," she sighed, how long had it been? She spotted two more Shadows attempting to blindside her from the right and dispatched them, used to the way they fought now. "I walk...on and on without end." She dismissed the Keyblade and began walking, heading for the ruins of the town that had sat around the castle.

"In the realm of light, do days or years pass with each step? I know something has started to go wrong. I must hurry."

Aqua broke out into a run, the stone path in front of her beginning to quake and crumble. She stopped at the edge of the path before it collapsed and sighed while looking at the small stone pillars that remain.

"I guess I know which way I'm going," she didn't like using magic outside of battle, it tended to attract those creatures and her magic didn't recover as quickly here.

She hopped on the pillars to cross the gap and slid along the trail of ice at the end. She reached the outskirts of the town at the base of the castle and looked around. "I haven't felt my Heart stir in a long time. Something about this place..."

More of the creatures appeared among the ruins and she called her Keyblade, ready to fight. "It looks like worse things are stirring!" She ducked an attack from some kind of burning creature, reacting with a blast of ice.

Aqua slowly made her way towards the heart of the town, stopping at a narrow street lit by lamps. "I took it for granted. I thought I had nothing in life to lose," she closed her eyes, images of Terra, Ven…even their Master flashing through her mind. She missed them all so much, would she ever see them again? And Ven…had his Heart ever found its way back to him? Or was he still asleep? Had Terra made it back to the Realm of Light? She glanced in the direction of the nearby Castle of Dreams. "Here, too. Everyone in this world thought that they were safe. Not just the people...but the dog waiting for his owner...the cat curled up in her nook... So much life. Trees and flowers... There's no deeper sadness than discovering all that you knew is gone." There were no signs of life except her own in the town, what happened to the animals when a World fell to Darkness, the people? Or were…were the strange creatures…no, that wasn't possible, was it? "The grief in this place is too much to fathom." She sighed and looked down despairingly, but then picked her head back up and continued walking. She would not give in to despair, she wouldn't, someday, someway, she'd find a way back. "That's enough. I can't keep on wishing for the past," she said it out loud, promising herself and them that she would keep moving.

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Hermione put her quill down and stared at the letter in front of her.

We can't say much about you-know-what, obviously… We've been told not to say anything important in case our letters go astray…We're quite busy but I can't give you details here…There's a fair amount going on, we'll tell you everything when we see you…

She bit her lip, torn. She knew Harry and their letters were not going to make him happy. Not after last year. Things had been changing between them, exasperated by Ron's refusal to believe Harry hadn't entered his name. She'd tried so hard to make them talk...and now she realised that had been wrong, she'd just wanted things to go back to normal but she had the sinking feeling that all she'd done was damage her own relationship with Harry. It hadn't been anything obvious, nothing an outsider would see but...there'd been a reserve to his interactions with both of them after the First Task that hadn't been there since Halloween of their First year.

Owl mail might be at risk of being intercepted but surely there was another way? Harry didn't say a lot about his relatives but Ron had told her about second year and that worried her.

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Riku stared at his parents in shock…except they weren't his parents. He should have known; he didn't really look anything like either of them. Why hadn't they told him before? He had a right to know! "Who were they?" he asked, clenching his hands to keep them from shaking.

"We don't know, you were found…abandoned," Mother admitted softly. "We'd been trying for so long to have a child and then there you were. Maybe a year or so old and all alone.

"Quite the surprise when I got home," Dad offered a small smile that Riku couldn't return.

"If I hadn't heard them…would you ever have told me?" he demanded.

A delicate hand covered his, sad eyes meeting his own. "You are our son Riku and we love you. Searches were made but there was never any sign…"

"I…I can't…" he stood and bolted from the house, running to the place he always felt safest.

Bright blue eyes blinked in surprise but then Sora was yanking his window up, guiding him into the bedroom where Sora curled around him on the bed as he shook. "It's okay Riku," he whispered, not demanding answers, just being there.

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Harry walked through the streets aimlessly, angry and frustrated. The injustice of it all welled up inside him so that he wanted to yell with fury. If it hadn't been for him, nobody would even have known Voldemort was back! And his reward was to be stuck in Little Whinging for six solid weeks, completely cut off from the magical world, reduced to squatting among dying begonias so that he could hear about water-skiing budgerigars! Did Dumbledore plan to leave him there all summer? Maybe with Voldemort back in a physical form Harry wasn't needed? Why had Ron and Hermione got together without inviting him along, too? Then again, if they had, would the Headmaster allow it? How much longer was he supposed to endure Sirius telling him to sit tight; or resist the temptation to write to the stupid Daily Prophet and point out that Voldemort had returned?

Those curious thoughts whirled around in Harry's head, and his insides writhed with anger as a sultry, velvety night fell around him, the air full of the smell of warm, dry grass, and the only sound was of the low grumble of traffic on the road beyond the park railings. He didn't know how long he had sat on the swing for before the sound of voices interrupted his musings and he looked up. The streetlamps from the surrounding roads were casting a misty glow strong enough to silhouette a group of people making their way across the park. One of them was singing a loud, crude song. The others were laughing. A soft ticking noise came from several expensive racing bikes that they were wheeling along.

Harry knew immediately who the group was and considered ducking away before he was spotted but honestly couldn't be bothered at the moment. The figure in front was unmistakeably his cousin, Dudley Dursley wending his way home, accompanied by his faithful gang. Dudley was as vast as ever, but a year's hard dieting and the discovery of a new talent had wrought quite a change in his physique. As Uncle Vernon delightedly told anyone who would listen, Dudley had recently become the Junior Heavyweight Inter-school Boxing Champion of the Southeast. 'The noble sport', as Vernon called it, had made Dudley even more formidable than he had seemed to Harry in their primary school days when he had served as Dudley's first punching ball. Harry was not remotely afraid of his cousin anymore but he still didn't think that Dudley learning to punch harder and more accurately was cause for celebration. Neighbourhood children all around were terrified of him - even more terrified than they were of 'that Potter boy' who, they had been warned, was a hardened hooligan and attended St Brutus's secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys.

Harry watched the dark figures crossing the grass and wondered who they had been beating up tonight. Look round, Harry found himself thinking as he watched them. Come on…look round…I'm sitting here all alone…come and have a go… If Dudley's friends saw him sitting there, they would be sure to make a beeline for him, and what would Dudley do then? He wouldn't want to lose face in front of the gang, but he'd be terrified of provoking Harry…it would be really fun to watch Dudley's dilemma, to taunt him, watch him, with him powerless to respond, and if any of the others tried hitting Harry, he was ready - he had his wand. Let them try… he'd love to vent some of his frustration on the boys who had once made his life hell. Maybe those thoughts would shock Hermione and even some of the students, those who believed that the Boy-Who-Lived was meant to be a paragon of Light, but after everything…he was done caring.

But they didn't turn around, they didn't see him, they were almost at the railings. Harry mastered the impulse to call after them, seeking a fight was not a smart move, he must not use magic or else he'd be risking expulsion again. The voices of Dudley's gang died away; they were out of sight, heading along Magnolia Road. Oh well.

He sighed but got to his feet and stretched. Aunt Petunia and Vernon seemed to feel that whenever Dudley turned up was the right time to be home, and any time after that was much too late. Vernon had threatened to lock Harry in the shed if he came home alter Dudley ever again, so, stifling a yawn, and still scowling, Harry set off towards the park gate.

Magnolia Road, like Privet Drive, was full of large, square houses with perfectly manicured lawns, all owned by large, square owners who drove very clean cars similar to his Uncle's.

Harry preferred Little Whinging by night, when the curtained windows made patches of jewel-bright colour in the darkness and he ran no danger of hearing disapproving mutters about his 'delinquent' appearance when he passed the householders. He walked quickly, so that halfway along Magnolia Road Dudley's gang came into view again; they were saying their farewells at the entrance to Magnolia Crescent. Harry stepped into the shadow of a large lilac tree and waited.

"…squealed like a pig, didn't he?" Malcolm was saying, to guffaws from the others.

"Nice right hook, Big D," Piers congratulated.

"Same time tomorrow?" Dudley asked.

"Round at my place, my parents will be out," Gordon agreed.

"See you then," Dudley called, goodbyes being called by the others as they moved on.

When their voices had faded once more he headed around the corner into Magnolia Crescent and by walking very quickly he soon came within hailing distance of Dudley, who was strolling along at his ease, humming tunelessly. "Hey, Big D!"

Dudley turned, "Oh," he grunted, "It's you."

"How long have you been "Big D" then?" he asked.

"Shut it," snarled Dudley, turning away.

"Cool name," Harry grinned, falling into step beside is cousin. "But you'll always be "Ickle Diddykins" to me."

"I said, SHUT IT!" Dudley snarled, ham-like hands curling into fists.

"Don't the boys know that's what your mum calls you?" Harry smirked.

"Shut your face."

"You don't tell her to shut her face. What about "Popkin" and "Dinky Diddydums", can I use them then?"

Dudley said nothing. The effort of keeping himself from hitting Harry seemed to demand all his self-control.

"So who've you been beating up tonight?" Harry asked, his grin fading. "Another ten-year-old? I know you did Mark Evans two nights ago – "

"He was asking for it," snarled Dudley.

"Oh yeah?" Harry demanded, getting angry again. Dudley was five years older and about ten times heavier than Mark, there was no reason at all to ever raise a hand with those differences.

"He cheeked me."

"Yeah? Did he say you look like a pig that's been taught to walk on its hind legs? 'Cause that's not cheek, Dud, that's true."

A muscle was twitching in Dudley's jaw. It gave Harry enormous satisfaction to know how furious he was making Dudley; he felt as though he was siphoning off his own frustration into his cousin, the only outlet he had. After everything Dudley had done to him over the years it felt good to let loose verbally.

They turned right down the narrow alleyway where Harry had first seen Sirius and which formed a short cut between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk. It was empty and much darker than the streets it linked because there were no streetlamps. Their footsteps were muffled between garage walls on one side and a high fence on the other.

"Think you're a big man carrying that thing, don't you?" Dudley asked after a few seconds.

"What thing?"

"That - that thing you are hiding," he stammered slightly, and Harry grinned again.

"Not as stupid as you look, are you, Dud? But I s'pose, if you were, you wouldn't be able to walk and talk at the same time." Harry pulled out his wand, seeing Dudley look sideways at it.

"You're not allowed," Dudley said at once. "I know you're not. You'd get expelled from that freak school you go to."

"How d'you know they haven't changed the rules, Big D?" he twirled the holly wood between his fingers, feeling the familiar warmth.

"They haven't," said Dudley, though he didn't sound completely convinced.

Harry laughed softly.

"You haven't got the guts to take me on without that thing, have you?" Dudley snarled.

"Whereas you just need four mates behind you before you can beat up a ten-year-old. You know that boxing title you keep banging on about? How old was your opponent? Seven? Eight?" Harry taunted in return.

"He was sixteen, for your information,' snarled Dudley, 'and he was out cold for twenty minutes after I'd finished with him and he was twice as heavy as you. You just wait till I tell Dad you had that thing out –"

"Running to Daddy now, are you? Is his ickle boxing champ frightened of nasty Harry's wand?"

"Not this brave at night, are you?" sneered Dudley.

"This is night, Diddykins. That's what we call it when it goes all dark like this," Harry rolled his eyes.

"I mean when you're in bed!" Dudley snarled as he stopped walking.

Harry stopped too, staring at his cousin. From the little he could see of Dudley's large face; he was wearing a strangely triumphant look. "What d'you mean, I'm not brave when I'm in bed?" Harry asked, Completely nonplussed. "What am I supposed to be frightened of, pillows or something?"

"I heard you last night," said Dudley breathlessly. "Talking in your sleep. Moaning."

"What d'you mean?" Harry asked again, but there was a cold, plunging sensation in his stomach. He had revisited the graveyard last night in his dreams.

Dudley gave a harsh bark of laughter, then adopted a high-pitched whimpering voice. "Don't kill Cedric! Don't kill Cedric!" Who's Cedric - your boyfriend?"

"I - you're lying," said Harry automatically. But his mouth had gone dry. He knew Dudley wasn't lying - how else would he know about Cedric?

"Dad! Help me, Dad! He's going to kill me, Dad! Boo hoo!''

"Shut up," Harry's voice had gone cold and quiet, his wand heating up in his clenched hand. "Shut up, Dudley, I'm warning you!"

"Come and help me, Dad! Mum, come and help me! He's killed Cedric! Dad, help me! He's going to - " Don't you point that thing at me!" Dudley backed into the alley wall.

Harry was pointing the wand directly at Dudley's heart. Harry could feel fourteen years' hatred of Dudley pounding in his veins - what wouldn't he give to strike now, to jinx Dudley so thoroughly he'd have to crawl home like an insect, struck dumb, sprouting feelers… "Don't ever talk about that again," Harry snarled. "D'you understand me?"

"Point that thing somewhere else!"

"I said, do you understand me?" Harry could feel the cold rage building, muscles trembling in anticipation of a fight.

"Point it somewhere else!"

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"

"GET THAT THING AWAY FROM…" Dudley gave an odd shuddering gasp, as though he had been doused in icy water.

Something had happened to the night. The star-strewn indigo sky was suddenly pitch black and lightless - the stars, the moon, the misty streetlamps at either end of the alley had vanished. The distant rumble of cars and the whisper of trees had gone. The balmy evening was suddenly piercingly, bitingly cold. They were surrounded by total, impenetrable, silent darkness, as though some giant hand had dropped a thick, icy mantle over the entire alleyway, blinding them.

For a split-second Harry thought he had done magic without meaning to, despite the fact that he'd been resisting as hard as he could - then his reason caught up with his senses - he didn't have the power to turn off the stars. He turned his head this way and that, trying to see something, but the darkness pressed on his eyes like a weightless veil.

Dudley's terrified voice broke in Harry's ear. "W-what are you d-doing? St-stop it!"

"I'm not doing anything! Shut up and don't move!" he snapped, praying he was wrong, even as he shifted his grip on his wand. There'd be no choice…

"I c-can't see! I've g-gone blind! I – "

"I said shut up!" Harry stood stock still, turning his sightless eyes left and right. The cold was so intense he was shivering all over; goose bumps had erupted up his arms and the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up - he opened his eyes to their fullest extent, staring blankly around, unseeing. It was impossible…they couldn't be there…not in Little Whinging. He strained his ears, knowing that he would hear them before he saw them.

"I'll t-tell Dad!" Dudley whimpered. "W-where are you? What are you d-do-?"

"Will you shut up?" Harry hissed, "I'm trying to lis- " he cut himself off as he heard what he'd been dreading.

There was something in the alleyway apart from themselves, something that was drawing long, hoarse, rattling breaths. Harry felt a horrible jolt of dread as he stood trembling in the freezing air.

"C-cut it out! Stop doing it! I'll h-hit you, I swear I will!"

"Dudley, shut – " Harry dropped on instinct, feeling the air move as Dudley's fist moved through where his head had been a second ago. He rolled back to his feet, crouched, wand ready.

He heard Dudley blundering away, hitting the alley fence, stumbling.

"DUDLEY, COME BACK! YOU'RE RUNNING RIGHT AT IT!" he yelled, he may hate his cousin at times but that didn't mean he deserved the Kiss!

There was a horrible squealing yell and Dudley's footsteps stopped. At the same moment, Harry felt a creeping chill behind him that could mean only one thing. There was more than one.

"DUDLEY, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT! WHATEVER YOU DO, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT!" He warned, even as he raised his wand. To save them both he'd have to break the law. "Lumos," he murmured, the wand lighting up instantly. His stomach turned over as he spotted a towering, hooded figure gliding smoothly towards him, hovering over the ground, no feet or face visible beneath its robes, sucking on the night as it came. Harry stood his ground and aimed his wand, closing his eyes, focusing just like he had at the end of Third year; but it was harder, memories of the Graveyard crowding in.

"Expecto Patronum!" He called and a silvery wisp of vapour shot from the tip of the wand, the Dementor slowing, but the spell hadn't worked properly. Tripping over his own feet, Harry retreated further as the Dementor bore down upon him, panic fogging his brain - concentrate -

A pair of grey, slimy, scabbed hands slid from inside the Dementor's robes, reaching for him. A rushing noise filled Harry's ears.

"Expecto Patronum!" His voice sounded dim and distant. Another wisp of silver smoke, feebler than the last, drifted from the wand - he couldn't do it anymore, he couldn't work the spell.

There was laughter inside his own head, shrill, high-pitched laughter…he could smell the Dementor's putrid, death-cold breath filling his own lungs, drowning him – think…something happy … But there was no happiness in him, the Dementor's icy fingers were closing on his throat - the high-patched laughter was growing louder and louder, and a voice spoke inside his head: 'Bow to death, Harry…it might even be painless…I would not know…I have never died…

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Riku curled up in a ball on his beds, eyes screwed shut tightly, hands gripping at his chest in agony. So scared…no!

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He was never going to see Ron and Hermione again, Sirius… - And their faces burst clearly into his mind as he fought for breath. He gasped as he felt a sudden surge of determination and fear…for him? Someone…

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

An enormous silver stag erupted from the tip of Harry's wand; it's antlers caught the Dementor in the place where the heart should have been; it was thrown backwards, weightless as darkness, and as the stag charged, the Dementor swooped away, bat-like and defeated.

"THIS WAY!" Harry shouted at the stag. Wheeling around, he sprinted down the alleyway, holding the lit wand aloft. "DUDLEY? DUDLEY!"

He had run barely a dozen steps when he reached them: Dudley was curled up on the ground, his arms clamped over his face. A second Dementor was crouching low over him, gripping his wrists in its slimy hands, prising them slowly, almost lovingly apart, lowering its hooded head towards Dudley's face as though about to kiss him.

"GET IT!" Harry bellowed, and with a rushing, roaring sound, the silver stag he had conjured came galloping past him.

The Dementor's eyeless face was barely an inch from Dudley's when the silver antlers caught it; the thing was thrown up into the air and, like its fellow, it soared away and was absorbed into the darkness; the stag cantered to the end of the alleyway and dissolved into silver mist.

Moon, stars and streetlamps burst back into life; a warm breeze swept the alleyway. Trees rustled in neighbouring gardens and the mundane rumble of cars in Magnolia Crescent filled the air again.

Harry stood quite still, all his senses vibrating, taking in the abrupt return to normality. After a moment, he became aware that his T-shirt was sticking to him; he was drenched in sweat.

He couldn't believe what had just happened. Dementors there, in Little Whinging. Dudley lay curled up on the ground, whimpering and shaking. Harry bent down to see whether he was in a fit state to stand up, but then he heard loud, running footsteps behind him.

Instinctively raising his wand again, he span on his heel to face the newcomer. Mrs Figg, their batty old neighbour, came panting into sight. Her grizzled grey hair was escaping from its hairnet, a clanking String shopping bag was swinging from her wrist and her feet were halfway out of her tartan carpet slippers. Harry made to stow his wand hurriedly out of sight, but -

"Don't put it away, idiot boy!" she shrieked. "What if there are more of them around? Oh, I'm going to kill Mundungus Fletcher!"

Harry gapped at her in utter shock. What?

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Riku slumped, panting, as the terror became strength and then triumph before it all faded away. What was happening to him? He shakily sat up and stared out the window, up at the stars. Someone, somewhere out there, was connected to him…he had to find them. The raft would be ready any day now and then they would finally leave. He had to go, he had to find out where he came from and he had the sinking feeling it wasn't the Destiny Islands, just like Kairi. He rubbed his chest, whoever he kept feeling…they were so angry lately and sometimes it hurt, but tonight had been the worst in months. What was happening to them? Why could he feel them…were…were they his family?

TBC….