Harry Potter and the Year of Silence

By Yoda

Chapter 1 – Family Matters

In the smallest bedroom of 4 Privet Drive, Harry Potter sat at his desk, staring out the window into a red dawn, the faint light reflecting off his glasses as his eyes passed over the treetops of his rooms. His usually bright emerald eyes were dim and unfocused, his tousled hair lay in strands that passed over his face but he made no attempt to shift it. His arms were outstretched in front of him, a wicked scar nestled in the crook of his right arm, from time to time he unconsciously rubbed it with his other hand, and a pained expression would cross his face.

Outside he looked clam and pensive, but on the inside a turmoil raged…

'Voldemort has returned.'

'Kill the spare…'

'It wasn't your fault Harry.'

'Take my body back to my parents.'

'This is not the random work of a lunatic!'

'It will be alright…hold on…'

'Harry, you can't help him now…'

'I conquer you!'

'I saw the Death Eaters, I can give you their names!'

'The boy can talk to snakes…you still think he's trustworthy?'

'You are blinded by the love of the office you hold!'

'I will be in touch to discuss the running of this school.'

'I must do what I can.'

'If you are ready…if you are prepared…'

'I am.'

'Remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave…'

'Trying not to think about it? Pretend it never happened?'

'Keep in touch…'

'Harry – thanks…'

Voices ran around his head, memories of the last year, all leading to his current state. For the entire summer he had kept himself alone, he barely communicated with the Dursleys before, now he had no one, he hadn't even sent letters to his friends. He hadn't received any either, not that it mattered, he wouldn't have felt anything had he heard from anyone, inside he was torn apart by the last years events. As he stared out into the growing darkness, a single tear fell from his glistening eyes and meandered down his cheek to fall on the desk.

The light faded from the room, but he continued to stare out into the darkness, his lost eyes shining in the moonlight.

*              *              *

Vernon Dursley was uncomfortable.

His nephew was the invariable cause of this, but for once it wasn't Harry directly.

A letter had arrived from the boy's…school. Normally he would have destroyed it instantly, but this time it was addressed to him. That had been a shock, and that was the reason he had read the letter…of course he couldn't tell Petunia that.

What he read scared him more than anything about Harry had ever done.

So now, for another summer night he sat by the fireplace watching the flames, letter in one hand, and his head resting in the other. He liked the fire that had replaced the artificial light, although explaining how his heater was embedded in the coffee table had been a challenge. The flames danced backwards and forwards, casting shadows on his face as he thought about his nephew, again a peculiarity.

Never before had he considered how the legacy of his sister-in-law would affect him, he had known what had happened to Lily and James Potter, now what would happen to him, his wife, his son? There was trouble brewing in the world, and he could feel that some of it was coming his way.

*              *              *

Albus Dumbledore was alone in his office, a soft silver light playing over his face as the Pensieve reflected its contents onto his face, the light twinkling in his eyes. Every few minutes he would lift the shallow bowl and sieve the contents about or he would place more grey strands into the mix from his head. As he thoughtfully sifted the liquid about images began to form, from them a figure emerged to stand in the bowl as he rested it on the table, amidst the swirling and flashes of Dumbledore's memories stood Harry Potter.

'He said the protection my – my mother left in me – he'd have it too. And he was right – he could touch me without hurting himself, he touched my face.'

Harry's face grimaced, probably because he still experienced the pain, Dumbledore supposed, then he allowed Harry's form to sink back down into the silvery liquid. Sighing he placed his wand onto the table, allowing his eyes to focus deeply into the Pensieve, somewhere there was an answer, somewhere there was a way.

*              *              *

The sun rose pale in the morning mist, gradually burning through the cloud to allow a soft light to flow into Harry's room, its path moved gradually over the desk and onto his face, as its warmth spread into him, his eyes slowly fluttered open. Yawning he lifted back the untidy mop of air from his eyes, not even noticing the thin scar that had rested on his forehead for 14 years, with his other hand he lifted his glasses from the desk and put them on his nose.

The world came into focus outside as his eyes adjusted, sitting up in his chair, his arms brushed against the object on his desk, sunlight glinted off the 'P' badge as he lifted it to his face. Examining it with furrowed eyebrows, silver light played over his face as he turned it thoughtfully, the far away look in his eyes suggested he was thinking about it, not studying the appearance of the badge. With a sigh he pushed back his chair, slipping the badge into his jeans as he stood, moving to the door he opened it then turned to stare out the window again, nothing was stirring, even the treetops were still, with a final glance he turned and left the room.

Harry walked down the stairs automatically, not even glancing into the living room, where, reliable as ever, his cousin Dudley sat, absorbing the holiday cartoons on television. Turning along at the bottom of the stairs he walked along the hallway, past the cupboard that had been his home for eleven years, walking onwards he opened the door to the kitchen.

His aunt and uncle already sat at the table, on the cooker top he saw the egg and bacon, complete with soggy toast that would be his breakfast, wordlessly he picked up the frying pan and began to cook. Behind him Vernon gave his wife a look and she exited quietly, Harry wouldn't have noticed except for the rattle of her teacup over the noise of the frying bacon. Turning off the hob, he put his food onto a plate and prepared to leave the room, turning round he saw his uncle staring impassively at him.

Harry held the gaze with his own, one of distance without a focus, he stood until his uncle spoke, a single word. 'Sit.' Putting the plate down Harry sat, staring once more into his uncles eyes, wondering what he wanted. The answer came when a parchment was placed on the table, Harry automatically reached for it when Vernon spoke again, 'This one was addressed to me,' he said evenly, not stopping  Harry reaching for it, but his nephew stopped nonetheless.

'Your headmaster…wrote to me, told me what happened last year…about your friend,' his eyes flickered into Harry's, he had the impression that the boy was taking nothing in as a blank stare greeted him back. 'Now I have sworn never to have anything to do with your…sort…of people, and, in preference, I still don't…but this,' once again he gestured to the letter, 'this changes things.'

'Now in the letter your headmaster has repeated to me all the 'legal guardian' nonsense, even though you do have a godfather. And he gave me some instructions as well, concerning you…well I haven't kept to them…because you have – all holiday…and I want to know why. Why are you suddenly afraid of doing anything? He said to keep you close and you haven't even left the house, haven't asked to go and see your friends, you haven't even done things…now, that means something's happening, and I want to know what. Because if it threatens you, then it threatens my family, and I won't see them harmed…now, tell me…please.'