Harry Potter was not your normal, average fifteen year old wizard. In fact, he was as far from normal as one could get, if you asked his relatives. It was on this particular night in the middle of June, that Harry found himself laying in the flowerbed once more, hidden by the large clusters of flowers, and branches.
The window was open once again, and Harry found himself listening in about the Muggle news once more. Ever since the recent happenings at the Ministry Of Magic, disappearances were happening every other day, with no way to explain them. This bothered Harry more than he could say, but at the moment, he was helpless to stop it.
Once again, the headline story was the disappearance of a Muggle family: a husband, a wife, and three children. Harry's eyes closed when he heard the next line.
"A new report just in: one of the children has been found. Four year old Amelia Jones was found just a few minutes ago in the rubble of her family home. The cause of death is unknown. . ."
Harry tuned it out after that. Only ignorant fools wouldn't know that is was the Killing Curse. Sighing, Harry started to extract himself from the flower bed, only to have a meaty hand reach down and pull him to his feet by the collar of his too-large, hole-filled shirt. A purple-faced Vernon Dursley was the sight that greeted him.
"LISTENING TO THE NEWS AGAIN-"
Harry tuned him out, waiting until his Uncle had calmed down and was only mildly screaming.
"-EVER CATCH YOU LISTENING AGAIN AND IT'LL BE THE END FOR YOU BOY! GOT THAT!"
Harry stared at his Uncle as if he were an annoying fly on the wall.
"Done yet?" Harry asked, snidely.
"NO I'M NOT DONE WITH YOU BOY! WHEN I GET DONE WITH YOU, YOU'LL GIVE ME THE RESPECT I DESERVE!"
Harry didn't have time to reply, because just as he had opened his mouth, a meaty hand met with the flesh of his face, and sent him reeling backwards. Hitting the dirt, hard, Harry scrambled to his feet, and pulled his wand out of his pocket. Pointing it at his Uncle, he stared angrily at him.
"I hate you." he said simply, his hatred rising within him. "I hate you so much that I'd hex you off the map if I could!"
Vernon's eyes glittered dangerously.
"But you're not allowed to. And that's what makes me the winner in this whole affair."
Angrily, Harry abruptly turned hill and marched off down the street, shoving his wand into his pocket. Making his way to the park, he sat down in the only unbroken swing, and swung slightly. Back and forth, back and forth. Frowning slightly, Harry allowed his thoughts to wander.
It was his fault that Sirius had died. It was Dumbledore's fault that he lived in this hell-hole. There was alot that was Dumbledore's fault. And despite the fact that Harry had listened to Dumbledore's sympathetic speech to him before he had left Hogwarts, he could not help but wonder if Dumbledore still hated him. It had been satisfying, in a sadistic type way, to throw things around Dumbledore's office and watch them smash into pieces. It had even been satisfying in a pessimistic way, to see Dumbledore so sad and so remorseful over his treatment of Harry, and his carelessness in this situation.
Harry might've been horrified at this thought, before his fourth year, but time had changed him. Perhaps he should've been in Slytherin. His thoughts were certainly not along the lines of a Gryffindor, at this moment. His thoughts would've continued along this line indefinately, had not a loud bang and several licks of fire lit up the night sky. Jumping to his feet, he ran as quickly as he could toward the Dursleys home.
They were not, by a long shot, his favorite people, but none-the-less, they were family. Despite his earlier threat, he would rather fight for them and keep them all safe, then have them die, and leave him alone and unguarded. Whipping out his wand, he finally came upon Number Four Privet Drive, only to find the house in ruins, and Aurors flooding the place.
One Auror whipped around, his wand so close that it was trained on Harry's face, almost touching his nose.
"Name?!" he asked gruffly.
"Harry Potter." Harry replied, nervously. "What's happened?"
The wizard stared at him for a long moment, before motioning to the sky above.
"Look up, son, and see for yourself."
Harry looked up, and the sight that greeted him made his stomach churn.
Hovering above was the Dark Mark.
Harry looked back at the Auror, the young man's pale face imprinting itself into his mind forever. Abruptly, the Auror waved his wand over the boy, and apparently satisfied that he was not a threat, grabbed his shoulder and pulled him over to where an elder wizard was waiting.
"Rodenbachus Troy."
Harry stared up at the tall wizard, who was dressed in royal blue robes. His long grey beard reached to his waist, and his peppered grey hair clung to his robes as if it was charged with static electricity. Stormy grey eyes peered worriedly down at Harry.
"Is this the boy, Rodolphus? The one who was staying under protection of blood relatives?"
The pasty, blonde-haired Auror nodded.
"Harry Potter. Albus has been notified. The boy must be moved to a safe place immediately."
Harry quickly protested.
"What about my relatives?! What about my things?! Where are you taking me?"
Rodenbachus set his spindly-fingered hand on Harry's shoulder.
"Relax, Mr. Potter. Everything is going to be fine. . .but your relatives. They. . . ."
Harry stared flatly up at the man.
"They're dead. They were Muggles. Of course they're dead. So where am I going? An orphanage?"
Ron had written him earlier to tell him that the Weasley's were not allowed to go back to The Burrow until it was safe. Remus had written and told him that Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was overflowing with new members of the Order. There was nowhere for him to go, and noone that would allow him to live with them. What happened now?
Rodenbachus shook his head.
"No, Mr. Potter. You are going to the only place, now, that you will ever be safe. You are going to stay with Albus Dumbledore."
Harry's body suddenly felt numb. Once upon a time, the idea would have thrilled him. Now it chilled him to the bone, and he had to wonder if it would be abit like living at the Dursley's. For a man who thought it was a good idea to stop caring if it would bring danger to someone, he couldn't help but wonder if he would do it again.
Harry simply nodded, feeling abit ill.
Of course, Albus Dumbledore always knew when to show up. Now was one of those times. With a resounding pop, Albus appeared, just a few short feet from Rodenbachus Troy. Rodenbachus turned, his grey eyes staring gravely at his once-colleague and friend.
"Albus."
The headmaster nodded gravely to the wizard.
"Rodenbachus."
Albus turned his gaze to Harry, the usual sparkle in his eyes absent, replaced by a look of worry.
"Harry."
Harry let his gaze drop to the ground.
"Professor."
Albus gave a soft sigh, and moved over to Harry's side.
"Come Harry. Let's get you somewhere safe, and somewhere you can rest."
Despite feeling reassured, Harry couldn't help but feel bitterness flood him. Everything seemed to happen to him, and all at once. Suddenly, the prospect of his living and of Voldemort's dying seemed very slim indeed. Someone cleared their throat, and Albus turned slightly to the wizard that had been so kind to Harry.
"Yes, Rodenbachus?"
"Would you mind if I joined you both, Albus? Somehow, I think tonight is going to be a long one."
Albus started to protest kindly, but Harry reached out and touched Albus' robes. For some reason, the thought of Bachus joining them seemed comforting.
"Please, Professor?"
Albus looked at Harry, slightly startled, but nodded. Turning back to Bachus, he gave a wane smile.
"Of course, Bachus. I have a feeling you might be right. . ."
Pulling an old watch from the folds of his robes, Albus tapped it and said, "Portus."
Seconds later, Harry, Bachus and Albus were standing in the midst of a massive stone Hall.
Albus smiled wearily at Harry.
"Welcome to Roanoke Castle, Harry."
Author's Note:
I know. I have alot of unfinished HP fics. The College of Magic will be continued shortly, but the other I'm doing will not, due mostly to the events in OoTP. The College story will be AU. Although I do not agree with Sirius' death, I do not own Harry Potter and therefore cannot change what happened. Please review.
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue. Bother me about it, and I'll sick Severus on you all. ;-)
Oh, BTW, if noone has read Imogen's stories, please go and read them. They can be found at www.gryffindortower.net. She has the most wonderful and brilliant of stories!! Next chapter, I'll be recommending someone else. *g* Brilliant author's they are. Wonderful stories.
The window was open once again, and Harry found himself listening in about the Muggle news once more. Ever since the recent happenings at the Ministry Of Magic, disappearances were happening every other day, with no way to explain them. This bothered Harry more than he could say, but at the moment, he was helpless to stop it.
Once again, the headline story was the disappearance of a Muggle family: a husband, a wife, and three children. Harry's eyes closed when he heard the next line.
"A new report just in: one of the children has been found. Four year old Amelia Jones was found just a few minutes ago in the rubble of her family home. The cause of death is unknown. . ."
Harry tuned it out after that. Only ignorant fools wouldn't know that is was the Killing Curse. Sighing, Harry started to extract himself from the flower bed, only to have a meaty hand reach down and pull him to his feet by the collar of his too-large, hole-filled shirt. A purple-faced Vernon Dursley was the sight that greeted him.
"LISTENING TO THE NEWS AGAIN-"
Harry tuned him out, waiting until his Uncle had calmed down and was only mildly screaming.
"-EVER CATCH YOU LISTENING AGAIN AND IT'LL BE THE END FOR YOU BOY! GOT THAT!"
Harry stared at his Uncle as if he were an annoying fly on the wall.
"Done yet?" Harry asked, snidely.
"NO I'M NOT DONE WITH YOU BOY! WHEN I GET DONE WITH YOU, YOU'LL GIVE ME THE RESPECT I DESERVE!"
Harry didn't have time to reply, because just as he had opened his mouth, a meaty hand met with the flesh of his face, and sent him reeling backwards. Hitting the dirt, hard, Harry scrambled to his feet, and pulled his wand out of his pocket. Pointing it at his Uncle, he stared angrily at him.
"I hate you." he said simply, his hatred rising within him. "I hate you so much that I'd hex you off the map if I could!"
Vernon's eyes glittered dangerously.
"But you're not allowed to. And that's what makes me the winner in this whole affair."
Angrily, Harry abruptly turned hill and marched off down the street, shoving his wand into his pocket. Making his way to the park, he sat down in the only unbroken swing, and swung slightly. Back and forth, back and forth. Frowning slightly, Harry allowed his thoughts to wander.
It was his fault that Sirius had died. It was Dumbledore's fault that he lived in this hell-hole. There was alot that was Dumbledore's fault. And despite the fact that Harry had listened to Dumbledore's sympathetic speech to him before he had left Hogwarts, he could not help but wonder if Dumbledore still hated him. It had been satisfying, in a sadistic type way, to throw things around Dumbledore's office and watch them smash into pieces. It had even been satisfying in a pessimistic way, to see Dumbledore so sad and so remorseful over his treatment of Harry, and his carelessness in this situation.
Harry might've been horrified at this thought, before his fourth year, but time had changed him. Perhaps he should've been in Slytherin. His thoughts were certainly not along the lines of a Gryffindor, at this moment. His thoughts would've continued along this line indefinately, had not a loud bang and several licks of fire lit up the night sky. Jumping to his feet, he ran as quickly as he could toward the Dursleys home.
They were not, by a long shot, his favorite people, but none-the-less, they were family. Despite his earlier threat, he would rather fight for them and keep them all safe, then have them die, and leave him alone and unguarded. Whipping out his wand, he finally came upon Number Four Privet Drive, only to find the house in ruins, and Aurors flooding the place.
One Auror whipped around, his wand so close that it was trained on Harry's face, almost touching his nose.
"Name?!" he asked gruffly.
"Harry Potter." Harry replied, nervously. "What's happened?"
The wizard stared at him for a long moment, before motioning to the sky above.
"Look up, son, and see for yourself."
Harry looked up, and the sight that greeted him made his stomach churn.
Hovering above was the Dark Mark.
Harry looked back at the Auror, the young man's pale face imprinting itself into his mind forever. Abruptly, the Auror waved his wand over the boy, and apparently satisfied that he was not a threat, grabbed his shoulder and pulled him over to where an elder wizard was waiting.
"Rodenbachus Troy."
Harry stared up at the tall wizard, who was dressed in royal blue robes. His long grey beard reached to his waist, and his peppered grey hair clung to his robes as if it was charged with static electricity. Stormy grey eyes peered worriedly down at Harry.
"Is this the boy, Rodolphus? The one who was staying under protection of blood relatives?"
The pasty, blonde-haired Auror nodded.
"Harry Potter. Albus has been notified. The boy must be moved to a safe place immediately."
Harry quickly protested.
"What about my relatives?! What about my things?! Where are you taking me?"
Rodenbachus set his spindly-fingered hand on Harry's shoulder.
"Relax, Mr. Potter. Everything is going to be fine. . .but your relatives. They. . . ."
Harry stared flatly up at the man.
"They're dead. They were Muggles. Of course they're dead. So where am I going? An orphanage?"
Ron had written him earlier to tell him that the Weasley's were not allowed to go back to The Burrow until it was safe. Remus had written and told him that Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was overflowing with new members of the Order. There was nowhere for him to go, and noone that would allow him to live with them. What happened now?
Rodenbachus shook his head.
"No, Mr. Potter. You are going to the only place, now, that you will ever be safe. You are going to stay with Albus Dumbledore."
Harry's body suddenly felt numb. Once upon a time, the idea would have thrilled him. Now it chilled him to the bone, and he had to wonder if it would be abit like living at the Dursley's. For a man who thought it was a good idea to stop caring if it would bring danger to someone, he couldn't help but wonder if he would do it again.
Harry simply nodded, feeling abit ill.
Of course, Albus Dumbledore always knew when to show up. Now was one of those times. With a resounding pop, Albus appeared, just a few short feet from Rodenbachus Troy. Rodenbachus turned, his grey eyes staring gravely at his once-colleague and friend.
"Albus."
The headmaster nodded gravely to the wizard.
"Rodenbachus."
Albus turned his gaze to Harry, the usual sparkle in his eyes absent, replaced by a look of worry.
"Harry."
Harry let his gaze drop to the ground.
"Professor."
Albus gave a soft sigh, and moved over to Harry's side.
"Come Harry. Let's get you somewhere safe, and somewhere you can rest."
Despite feeling reassured, Harry couldn't help but feel bitterness flood him. Everything seemed to happen to him, and all at once. Suddenly, the prospect of his living and of Voldemort's dying seemed very slim indeed. Someone cleared their throat, and Albus turned slightly to the wizard that had been so kind to Harry.
"Yes, Rodenbachus?"
"Would you mind if I joined you both, Albus? Somehow, I think tonight is going to be a long one."
Albus started to protest kindly, but Harry reached out and touched Albus' robes. For some reason, the thought of Bachus joining them seemed comforting.
"Please, Professor?"
Albus looked at Harry, slightly startled, but nodded. Turning back to Bachus, he gave a wane smile.
"Of course, Bachus. I have a feeling you might be right. . ."
Pulling an old watch from the folds of his robes, Albus tapped it and said, "Portus."
Seconds later, Harry, Bachus and Albus were standing in the midst of a massive stone Hall.
Albus smiled wearily at Harry.
"Welcome to Roanoke Castle, Harry."
Author's Note:
I know. I have alot of unfinished HP fics. The College of Magic will be continued shortly, but the other I'm doing will not, due mostly to the events in OoTP. The College story will be AU. Although I do not agree with Sirius' death, I do not own Harry Potter and therefore cannot change what happened. Please review.
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue. Bother me about it, and I'll sick Severus on you all. ;-)
Oh, BTW, if noone has read Imogen's stories, please go and read them. They can be found at www.gryffindortower.net. She has the most wonderful and brilliant of stories!! Next chapter, I'll be recommending someone else. *g* Brilliant author's they are. Wonderful stories.