by CharmofLove
© August 20, 2002
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all of its entities belong to J.K Rowling. No infringement intended.
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Halloween . . . 1981 . . . 10:31 PM"It's happening."
The wind came and went, pushing fallen leaves through the thick darkness that was the night. One man stood rigidly still, not moving beneath an empty, starless sky. It was Halloween, the year was marked at 1981 and a deciding factor had been put into play.
Severus Snape closed his eyes in mental agony. He took a deep, thick breath and tried to push aside the pain, fear and regret that toyed with his foul disposition this night.
"There was nothing I could do. Too late . . ." he stated bitterly to himself, his words being lost to the silence that surrounded him. He was lucky to be alive to say them. No one was supposed to leave the Dark Lord's fold; no one ever had and if they had even toyed with the idea it usually resulted in an untimely and messy death. But Severus had toyed, oh yes. And he had pushed and he had survived. But at what cost?
"Lily Potter," his voice caressed the first half and practically spit out the last half of the name. "You had to go and marry a fool. A fool who put your life in danger with his ideals, his courage his –" Love? Snape stopped and practically choked. He would never acknowledge it.
'She fell in love with the enemy, left your friendship behind and began something new – complete with a son. You were lucky to have known her, but she could never have been yours.'
His heart clenched at that foul voice in his head. "Death rises at night," Snape spat out. He looked up to see a barn owl fly over him in the night's sky, its call strong and piercing. With that sign he left, only to begin again.
* * *
The Present, the summer before Harry's 5th Year . . .
"BOY!"
The sound of Uncle Vernon's voice shaking the rafters of Number Four, Privet Drive, awakened Harry Potter at once. Why him? Why was it always about him?
There was no doubt that Dudley would sleep through the family mayhem with a rather conscious smile.
It wasn't as if Harry had slept well at all last night. Dark, roving nightmares continued to plague him. Past events and the death of Cedric Diggory had yet to release him from the internal anguish that ravaged his heart and mind. But only Harry was aware of how much pain he was suffering as no one at Privet Drive could possibly care if he held emotional scars, let alone physical scars, or not. No, he was on his own.
From the smell of bacon and muffins floating about in the air, Aunt Petunia was making breakfast and would chalk her husband's ill manners up to just another day in dealing with the freak.
"GET DOWN HERE!"
Harry sighed, quickly pushed back the covers and was exiting his bedroom when his Uncle's voice had the last say.
"NOW!"
Harry reluctantly took step after step until he was downstairs and entering the kitchen. "Yes, Uncle Vernon?" There was a dull resignation to his voice.
"Well, what took you so long?!" Uncle Vernon exclaimed, the fat that had settled around his face after many years of extended meals jiggled with each punctuated word. "Thought if you waited until the last moment we'd forget you're here? Not likely!" he laughed the last bit.
"No, Uncle Vernon," Harry said with only a smudge of irritation in his voice. He pushed his round, black glasses down his nose to rub at his eyes that were still hazy with sleep. The sunlight of yet another morning was streaming in through the kitchen windows to compete with his Aunt and Uncle's dark, foul moods.
"This," he held up an envelope, that had a black wax seal, and waved it about in the air as though it were a hankie, "this just came for you!"
"A letter?" Harry reached out to take it but was thwarted when his Uncle snagged it back to clutch it in both of his hands.
"And do you know how it got here? Hmm? Can you possibly guess?!"
There was a rage broiling behind those words.
Harry winced, "By owl?"
"Indeed! Right you are, Harry. Right – you – are. One of those BLOODY BIG BIRDS brought it in through the open bedroom window this morning! Pushed the screen right in! Four o'clock I tell you. FOUR. IN. THE. MORNING."
"I- I didn't know – I didn't ask –" Harry stammered.
"It's from that crazy school of yours . . ." Vernon went and pulled out a tea-colored sheet of stationary from the envelope that had heavy, black, scrawled ink running the course of it. He had taken the liberty of opening yet another one of Harry's letters. "That Dumbleday, Dumbledoo, er Dumbdee," his eyes scanned rapidly over the letter in search of the name, "whomever! Wants you to stay with that Wessley, family."
"Weasley." Harry corrected through clenched teeth. Then the words sunk in a second later. "Dumbledore wants me to leave Privet Drive? He wants me to stay at the Burrow?" Harry asked, his confusion and questions building by the second. "But, why?"
"As if I would know. He was rather vague, which Petunia and I did not appreciate at all, did we," he muttered over his shoulder to his wife who was busy cooking and who had yet to speak to Harry at all since his return from his fourth year at Hogwarts. "Take Harry for the summer," Vernon continued, "Send Harry back for term, take Harry, send Harry – take, send, take, send – IT'S DRIVING US BLOODY MAD! You boy, are too much trouble."
"I'm sorry, I-"
"Pack your things."
Harry gawked, his heart swelling with happiness but then doubt edged its way on in. "Perhaps I ought to send an owl back – just to make sure –" he stopped at as his Uncles face colored towards an eggplant shade of purple.
"WH-" his Uncles stuttered" "WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT SAYING –"
Harry winced and backed up. He had let the 'send an owl back' slip. It just wasn't in his nature to cover up every magical detail of who he was – even with the Dursley's yelling and screaming at him about the 'abnormalities' of it all the time.
"Sorry! Just – I mean," Harry started. How could he explain to the Dursley's that since the end of his fourth year he had to be on guard against an evil wizard who wanted to torture and kill him.
Vernon gave him a stern look. "I know what I read, boy," he hissed. "If I was trying to get rid of you I'd have bloody well done it by now."
Harry didn't take that as a kind of reassurance. Sighing, he nodded his head, "So it's from Hogwarts – and I'm to go to Ron's then?" He smiled at the thought as he'd be spending his fifteenth birthday with Ron and his family, then. The Weasley's were a family that made him feel comfortable and that made Harry feel, well, loved – unlike the current one he was with. Blood, after all, wasn't everything.
"Brilliant, isn't he," Vernon threw over his shoulder at Petunia again. "Yes, of course you're going. The less we have of you the better. Do you know how much it cost to have that tail removed from Dudley's hind-side? And that tongue incident – Marge gave him a chocolate bar at Christmas and he just about had a nervous breakdown. We've been keeping track of the expenses. You boy are more than in debt to us – in more ways than one!" Vernon shook his finger.
Even as the words registered with Harry he still couldn't help but choke on his own laughter. Dudley was his cousin by birth; they had lived together since they were both children but neither one of them could tolerate the other – and for good reasons. The main one being that Dudley used to live to bully Harry. But now that Harry had been proclaimed a wizard, Dudley had learned to keep his distance most of the time.
"But why am I going? And are they coming here to get me or-?" Harry asked, unable to stop his inquisitive mind. He crept closer, trying to peer through or down at the paper that was clutched in the hands of his Uncle, a man who felt more like Snape's next of kin than Harry's own.
Vernon jerked the paper away again, far from Harry's green eyes, "Said it was 'requested of him.' Didn't say by whom and we're not about to ask. Your lot is always up to something, boy. And we're supposed to drop you off at that King's Cross Station early tomorrow morning. So that's where you'll go."
Harry swallowed. On the one hand he was absolutely thrilled with the prospect of spending the rest of the summer with his best friend, however on the other hand – something just didn't sit right with him. But how could he argue with his Uncle?
Family was an interesting thing to Harry. He had many questions and too few answers. Even Dumbledore had not tried to hide the fact that there were things Harry didn't know, things that certain people were not willing to tell him – yet.
Harry refocused and realized that both Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were staring at him.
"Well?!?!?! Don't just stand there! Go pack! We're to have you there by nine o'clock in the morning. And no flying your birdie ahead of time to those Weasles – would cause a commotion in the neighborhood, no doubt," Vernon muttered. "I'm sure Mrs. Weasle knows you're coming, though why she wants you I haven't the faintest idea."
"WEASLEY," Harry stated again. He left the kitchen before the Dursley's would change their minds. He was willing to risk almost anything in order to spend a summer with Ron and his family. With a deep breath he nodded and then left the kitchen with hopeful thoughts that maybe the summer would take a turn for the better.
Harry raced up the stairs, nearly colliding with a half-awake Dudley clad in teddy-bear pajamas. "Sorry! Won't be seeing much of you again! But I'll live!" he laughed at Dudley's confusion and continued his flight back up to his room. His birthday and the rest of the summer with the Weasley's! Things couldn't be any better.
* * *
Continued in Chapter 2