Enough was enough, Harry thought as he contemplated the locked door
that was all that separated him from his so-called family, the Dursleys.
He'd been depressed ever since he'd returned from Hogwarts this year,
especially because of the events that had surrounded the Third Task of the
Tri-Wizard Tournament; the death of Cedric Diggory and the resurrection of
the darkest wizard in current times, Voldemort. Harry's sleep had been
fitful since then. When he wasn't dreaming of Voldemort and his loyal
Death Eaters, he was having nightmares about the Third Task. And he'd had
to deal with the Dursleys.
Harry wasn't sure why Dumbledore had sent them the letter telling about the events that had occurred in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, but he had. For all the good it had done. Uncle Vernon had immediately turned on Harry and delivered a blustering diatribe about how much he disliked 'that sort' and how Harry should have had the common courtesy to get himself killed as well. Dudley had taken to tormenting Harry physically again, as he had when they were younger. Not even the specter of Harry's escaped convict godfather seemed to stop him anymore.
Harry could have lived with the Dursleys making his life miserable, after all he'd lived with it for his whole life, but it was everything else that had tipped the full bucket. He'd started a subscription with the Daily Prophet and the news in it had scarcely helped. Disappearances among the Muggle-born were mentioned in the headlines, which dovetailed with the atrocities that the Muggle papers were reporting as an IRA terrorist action. Rita Skeeter was noticeably absent from the bylines, which made Harry wonder what Hermione had done with her. He doubted she was still keeping her trapped in that jar. Despite Skeeter's absence, enough was flying around in the Daily Prophet that was openly condemning of Harry over Cedric's death and over the disappearance. Their favorite theory was that Voldemort had possessed Harry's body and was now on the loose again. Harry had to chuckle at how close they'd actually come to the truth before missing it completely.
What had really hurt was the lack of contact with his friends. He'd sent Hedwig out several times with messages for Ron and Hermione, even for Fred and George, but she'd always come back without a reply. Sometimes, she'd even come back with the letter he'd sent, unopened. It had hurt Harry a lot that his friends hadn't wanted to keep in touch with him, especially since they knew he depended on them to stay sane at the Dursleys. At first, he'd thought it was another person blocking his mail, like Dobby had before his second year, but Hermione had given him her telephone number during their third year, when she found out that he'd been turned out of the Dursleys and had to hitch a ride on the Knight Bus. He'd tried calling her at her home when several of his letters had passed without a response. Her father had answered and told Harry that Hermione didn't wish to speak to him at all and not to call them again.
Harry had been crushed. Hermione had been the one person who'd stuck by him through thick and thin since they'd become friends in first year. Even when Ron had turned on him in jealousy, she'd been there for him. Harry had sunk into a funk as the summer wore on. His birthday had come and gone without do much as an owl from anyone. Now, as the mid-August heat turned the smallest bedroom at Number 4, Privet Drive into an oven, Harry began to wonder what the purpose of it all was.
He'd been so happy at Hogwarts. For the first time in his life, he'd had friends and a family of sorts, but now they had abandoned him. Them and the rest of the wizarding world. Harry now found himself wishing that Hagrid had never made sure he'd gotten his Hogwarts letter. If he'd never known life could be better, that he had once had people love him, maybe it wouldn't have hurt so much to be abandoned.
Harry stared out the window as that word rang through his head, abandoned. This would make the third time he'd been abandoned. First, there was his parents when he was a baby. He knew they didn't want to leave him, that they'd been taken, but they'd still abandoned him. Second was the Wizarding world. They were so quick to condemn him at the slightest provocation over the years and they were doing it again. Finally and most painfully was this abandonment by his friends. Well no more. They'd abandoned him, so he was going to abandon them. Let them deal with Voldemort on their own. Let them solve their own problems. Harry Potter was through being a boy hero. It was time to strike out on his own. Despite his anger and despair, Harry felt a swelling inside his heart, the joyous feeling that accompanied using his magic as he vanished from the room.
Author's note:
This is just the prologue. I'm hoping it will really take off from here. It will be a Harry/Ginny relationship, and don't worry if the actions of the other characters seem out of place. There's a good reason.
Harry wasn't sure why Dumbledore had sent them the letter telling about the events that had occurred in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, but he had. For all the good it had done. Uncle Vernon had immediately turned on Harry and delivered a blustering diatribe about how much he disliked 'that sort' and how Harry should have had the common courtesy to get himself killed as well. Dudley had taken to tormenting Harry physically again, as he had when they were younger. Not even the specter of Harry's escaped convict godfather seemed to stop him anymore.
Harry could have lived with the Dursleys making his life miserable, after all he'd lived with it for his whole life, but it was everything else that had tipped the full bucket. He'd started a subscription with the Daily Prophet and the news in it had scarcely helped. Disappearances among the Muggle-born were mentioned in the headlines, which dovetailed with the atrocities that the Muggle papers were reporting as an IRA terrorist action. Rita Skeeter was noticeably absent from the bylines, which made Harry wonder what Hermione had done with her. He doubted she was still keeping her trapped in that jar. Despite Skeeter's absence, enough was flying around in the Daily Prophet that was openly condemning of Harry over Cedric's death and over the disappearance. Their favorite theory was that Voldemort had possessed Harry's body and was now on the loose again. Harry had to chuckle at how close they'd actually come to the truth before missing it completely.
What had really hurt was the lack of contact with his friends. He'd sent Hedwig out several times with messages for Ron and Hermione, even for Fred and George, but she'd always come back without a reply. Sometimes, she'd even come back with the letter he'd sent, unopened. It had hurt Harry a lot that his friends hadn't wanted to keep in touch with him, especially since they knew he depended on them to stay sane at the Dursleys. At first, he'd thought it was another person blocking his mail, like Dobby had before his second year, but Hermione had given him her telephone number during their third year, when she found out that he'd been turned out of the Dursleys and had to hitch a ride on the Knight Bus. He'd tried calling her at her home when several of his letters had passed without a response. Her father had answered and told Harry that Hermione didn't wish to speak to him at all and not to call them again.
Harry had been crushed. Hermione had been the one person who'd stuck by him through thick and thin since they'd become friends in first year. Even when Ron had turned on him in jealousy, she'd been there for him. Harry had sunk into a funk as the summer wore on. His birthday had come and gone without do much as an owl from anyone. Now, as the mid-August heat turned the smallest bedroom at Number 4, Privet Drive into an oven, Harry began to wonder what the purpose of it all was.
He'd been so happy at Hogwarts. For the first time in his life, he'd had friends and a family of sorts, but now they had abandoned him. Them and the rest of the wizarding world. Harry now found himself wishing that Hagrid had never made sure he'd gotten his Hogwarts letter. If he'd never known life could be better, that he had once had people love him, maybe it wouldn't have hurt so much to be abandoned.
Harry stared out the window as that word rang through his head, abandoned. This would make the third time he'd been abandoned. First, there was his parents when he was a baby. He knew they didn't want to leave him, that they'd been taken, but they'd still abandoned him. Second was the Wizarding world. They were so quick to condemn him at the slightest provocation over the years and they were doing it again. Finally and most painfully was this abandonment by his friends. Well no more. They'd abandoned him, so he was going to abandon them. Let them deal with Voldemort on their own. Let them solve their own problems. Harry Potter was through being a boy hero. It was time to strike out on his own. Despite his anger and despair, Harry felt a swelling inside his heart, the joyous feeling that accompanied using his magic as he vanished from the room.
Author's note:
This is just the prologue. I'm hoping it will really take off from here. It will be a Harry/Ginny relationship, and don't worry if the actions of the other characters seem out of place. There's a good reason.