This chapter is for MaNa SaMaH my first reviewer ever and so far the only on on this story: I really needed the review to even get me started on this, I thank you, hopefully you like it and you haven't been waiting around for nothing.
For disclaimer see first chap.
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'I've been so misinformed for so long now that I don't know what is true. I remember when the dementors came to Hogwarts that I heard my mother and father. The thing is when it came to the third voice I don't know who it was. Was it Voldermort? or was it someone else. How can I be sure?
His voice was different when I dueled him. It was rasppy like it was when he was on the back of Quierelle's head. How can I know that the voice in the visions is his. I look at the history and see Serius. He was accused of murder. He didn't do it, but when he got the chance to take vengance and to kill the man he was accused of killing he took it.
The memory, was it of my parents final moments? How can I know? I'm so confused by everything. People say he wouold kill me if he could, but why? He told my mother (if it was him) to stand aside. She refused, but why me? what makes me the targeet of everything? why does this all happen? I'm not going into a "Feal sorry for me" time. I just want to know how it all ties in together.
I look at my friends and try to think of what I know truly about them. Ron likes the Chudley Canons and Hermione likes books. What else is new. I knew that by the middle of my first year. Do I even know "where their loyalties lie" to quoet Professor Snape. Do I know their favourit colours? Do I know truly anything? How have I not seen this before was I to wraped up in myself? Maybe Snapes right I do have a bloated igo. Maybe I do steal the spot light from Ron, maybe, maybe, maybe, all I have are maybes. I need answers.
I've been sheltered my whole life from knowledge and truth. Not being allowed to ask questions as a child has made it hard for me to find anything straight out. I always had to sneak around for answers, look to books, never just ask. Well now is the time for tuff questions. Who really is my enemie? my friend? Who have I been misinformed about? Who has been misinformed about me?'
These thoughts swirlled around in Harry's head as he lay on the ground. His Uncle Vernon had given him a hard beating this time and his mind was slowly bringing it'self back to his body. He had been practising for a long time now how to remove his mind from the beatings and think of more important things then the pain. Over the past few weeks the beatings had been getting worse and harry's mussings were delving deeper and deeper.
With the probing questions and his own doughts, Harry was having a hard time. He kept remembering the sounds of his parents and Voldermort. Something was not fitting together, he had at first thought that the voice had been angry with his parents, then frightened, now it sounded almost pleading. Harry couldn't remember clearly anymore. Lack of food and rest was starting to wear on him. He decided after many questions on the nature of the voice that he would just have to hear it again before he couold make any decisions.
Harry had also learned over the summer not to jump to conclusions because they just end up making you disapointed, or in way over your head. He had develloped a tallent that he had somehow always overlooked. He could read body language and determin what someone was going to do. This had always come in handy when Dudley and his friends had been over, but he had mearly associated those times with his body being in a heightened state of awarness.
Lieing on his back Harry leveled off his breathing and began his first of many attempts to sit up. His back was an array of cuts and brueses, gashes were open on his back of old and new. He had come to where them as a reminder to be quiet and do as you are told. Harry knew that he was becoming obsesed with perfection but it was the only thing that he could do to keep himself sane and safe from his familly. If he did everything right they couldn't be mad at him, and if they weren't mad they wouldn't come looking for him to punish him. His first lesson this summer had been to not draw attention to yourself.
So Harry didn't plan on drawing anymore attention to himself, he would disapear from there sight for a while or maybe he would never have to see them again, yes his mind had been wandering to thoughts of running away but then he would think of Dumbledore's eyes asking him but really ordering him to stay at his aunt's and uncle's house. How was he going to get through it? He didn't know, all he had was the desire for knowledge, and truth to keep his mind off the pain.
Finally off the ground and up into his bed Harry fell into a deep sleep where no dreams came and he was able to rest properly for the first time in weeks.
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Thank you for waiting so long for this, I had a lot of bad stuff going on in my life and I really just didn't want to write anything for fear of changing my story lines and making them darker then I wanted.
For disclaimer see first chap.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'I've been so misinformed for so long now that I don't know what is true. I remember when the dementors came to Hogwarts that I heard my mother and father. The thing is when it came to the third voice I don't know who it was. Was it Voldermort? or was it someone else. How can I be sure?
His voice was different when I dueled him. It was rasppy like it was when he was on the back of Quierelle's head. How can I know that the voice in the visions is his. I look at the history and see Serius. He was accused of murder. He didn't do it, but when he got the chance to take vengance and to kill the man he was accused of killing he took it.
The memory, was it of my parents final moments? How can I know? I'm so confused by everything. People say he wouold kill me if he could, but why? He told my mother (if it was him) to stand aside. She refused, but why me? what makes me the targeet of everything? why does this all happen? I'm not going into a "Feal sorry for me" time. I just want to know how it all ties in together.
I look at my friends and try to think of what I know truly about them. Ron likes the Chudley Canons and Hermione likes books. What else is new. I knew that by the middle of my first year. Do I even know "where their loyalties lie" to quoet Professor Snape. Do I know their favourit colours? Do I know truly anything? How have I not seen this before was I to wraped up in myself? Maybe Snapes right I do have a bloated igo. Maybe I do steal the spot light from Ron, maybe, maybe, maybe, all I have are maybes. I need answers.
I've been sheltered my whole life from knowledge and truth. Not being allowed to ask questions as a child has made it hard for me to find anything straight out. I always had to sneak around for answers, look to books, never just ask. Well now is the time for tuff questions. Who really is my enemie? my friend? Who have I been misinformed about? Who has been misinformed about me?'
These thoughts swirlled around in Harry's head as he lay on the ground. His Uncle Vernon had given him a hard beating this time and his mind was slowly bringing it'self back to his body. He had been practising for a long time now how to remove his mind from the beatings and think of more important things then the pain. Over the past few weeks the beatings had been getting worse and harry's mussings were delving deeper and deeper.
With the probing questions and his own doughts, Harry was having a hard time. He kept remembering the sounds of his parents and Voldermort. Something was not fitting together, he had at first thought that the voice had been angry with his parents, then frightened, now it sounded almost pleading. Harry couldn't remember clearly anymore. Lack of food and rest was starting to wear on him. He decided after many questions on the nature of the voice that he would just have to hear it again before he couold make any decisions.
Harry had also learned over the summer not to jump to conclusions because they just end up making you disapointed, or in way over your head. He had develloped a tallent that he had somehow always overlooked. He could read body language and determin what someone was going to do. This had always come in handy when Dudley and his friends had been over, but he had mearly associated those times with his body being in a heightened state of awarness.
Lieing on his back Harry leveled off his breathing and began his first of many attempts to sit up. His back was an array of cuts and brueses, gashes were open on his back of old and new. He had come to where them as a reminder to be quiet and do as you are told. Harry knew that he was becoming obsesed with perfection but it was the only thing that he could do to keep himself sane and safe from his familly. If he did everything right they couldn't be mad at him, and if they weren't mad they wouldn't come looking for him to punish him. His first lesson this summer had been to not draw attention to yourself.
So Harry didn't plan on drawing anymore attention to himself, he would disapear from there sight for a while or maybe he would never have to see them again, yes his mind had been wandering to thoughts of running away but then he would think of Dumbledore's eyes asking him but really ordering him to stay at his aunt's and uncle's house. How was he going to get through it? He didn't know, all he had was the desire for knowledge, and truth to keep his mind off the pain.
Finally off the ground and up into his bed Harry fell into a deep sleep where no dreams came and he was able to rest properly for the first time in weeks.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thank you for waiting so long for this, I had a lot of bad stuff going on in my life and I really just didn't want to write anything for fear of changing my story lines and making them darker then I wanted.