Wow. When I said that I might take awhile, I honestly didn't mean that I'd take a month. I really have no excuses, but I can try. Hmm…I've been caught up in my junior year of high school, new job with lots of hours, and I'm still going through Writer's Block (anybody got a cure yet?) Anyway, this part is written VERY DIFFERENTLY then most of the other parts, or at least in my perspective it is. I took a slightly darker root then usual. I'll try (stress try) to update within a week.

This is an angst fic. If you don't like to read them, please stop here.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of Harry Potter or his world.

Alive

The room was empty, yet so completely full of Harry's remorse and anger that it almost shined out the window into the now-darkening Diagon Alley. The bright glow illuminated from Harry himself, his body so entwined in his feelings that he failed to notice the silence that had engulfed the area around him. There had been almost no knocking on his door since Hermione's unfortunate visit. Sirius and Remus had both attempted to speak to him, but his cold nature had frightened them away. He'd become snappish and selfish, all within a twenty-four hour period.

            Hours ago, Hedwig had given him a backwards hoot and flown from his room, only to return with a note from Ollivander that stated his wand fragments were being sent to an expert in Russia who the richest of wizards visited when they had wand problems. The expert hadn't publicized himself in years and consequently hadn't received much visits. Only the richest of wizards knew of him and the wisest of wizards knew to stay away. But it wasn't his reputation that had captivated Harry. It was the pure fact that the wizard-his name was Popovsky-hadn't heard of him or his current family troubles. Popovsky preferred to keep himself from the known world, focusing mainly on his highly illegal, yet legal, works.

            Harry read the note from Ollivander again. He'd almost memorized it, but the words still seemed not quite to be true.

Mr. Harry Potter,

            Despite the large sum of money you have offered me for the repair of your wand, it is unfixable to the likes of me. I do not possess the knowledge or skill to complete such a task, for it has never been accomplished. Therefore I have chosen to withdraw myself from your task and send it to another. His name is Mihir Popovsky and he resides in Russia. I have taken the liberty of sending him the feather.

           

Mr. Ollivander

On a side note, it might interest you to find out that Popovsky hasn't been in contact with any known sole for a few dozen years.

            He was going to go.

            There was no honest reason he could think of not to go. Popovsky would have his wand and Harry would have his freedom. He'd already liberated him from everybody who was holding him back. Everybody except Ron. And how much did Ron matter to him? Ron was his faithful sidekick, the person who was there to question his motives and keep his head from swelling to large. He would become angry when he thought he was being mistreated, which was exactly what Harry was doing at that moment. He hadn't contacted him with the news of Lily and James and hadn't run to him when he needed someplace to stay. Ron was probably feelings used and useless, a sidekick without a reason and Harry didn't need an extra emotional burden keeping him in check. Hermione, Sirius, and Remus had done enough of that for him.

            The pure idea and thought of Russia excited him. The secluded area where Popovsky lived probably hadn't even heard of Voldemort, much less James and Lily Potter and their son, the boy-who-lived. Nobody would miss him until the beginning of school. Nobody except the heard of reporters that followed him around, James and Lily, and his guardians. None of them mattered to him. None of them meant a thing to him. They were unimportant, pure burden in a situation that should have warranted none.

            There was a loud knock on his door. Harry quickly snapped out of the trance that had consumed him for almost the entire day and cautiously opened the door.

            "No, wait! DON'T!"

"Petrificus Totalus"

            Everything was dark.

            When Harry awoke, he was in a room that he didn't know, bound to an unfamiliar chair, yet being watched by two very familiar people.

            "Hello Harry."

            "What do you want from me?" Harry yelled, squishing his eyes shut and refusing to look in front of him. The person let out a subtle, yet slightly hysterical laugh.

            "You know what we want. We want the best for you."

            "Get away from me. You can't leave me alone, you have to kidnap me. You can't just accept the fact that I've lived a life without you and that I'm rejecting you now that you're back. You can't accept that you're not a part of who I am, what I was, or who I'm going to become. Just let me go."

            The hysterical laugh continued. Both Potters stepped closer to Harry, Lily overshadowed by her taller husband. "Harry, you have to trust us. We love you. We died for you."

            "You should have stayed dead," Harry used his only weapon against them and spat. "Let me go."

            "Go where?"

            "Away from here. Let me go!" Harry heard himself yell, but he also watched as James pointed his wand towards him. His words started loud and crisp and slowly became a blur, blending slowly and cleaning together.

            "Harry, we only want what's best for you. We gave up our lives for you seventeen years ago…can't you show us a little gratitude, a little respect? We loved you and we love you now. You're killing us, can't you see? Just by being around us. We loved you and you died. You're friends keep dying, keep turning on you. You killed Cedric, don't you understand? You're going to kill us if you keep this up. You don't want this on your mind, do you? Look at her. You're killing your mother. And worst of all, you can't even call us your parents! Just do it Harry. Relinquish your fear,let-go-of-yourself-stop-being-so-selfish-and-let-us-talk-to-you-live-with-us-you're-killing-yourself-your-not-alive…Mr. Potter, are you alright?"

Harry looked up to see Tom staring down at him. He was sprawled across the hallway of the Leaky Cauldron in front of his room. The door to his room was slightly open, Hedwig hooting from her cage in a loud, frightened tone. Tom extended his hand and Harry grasped it, pulling himself up.

"Were Lily and James Potter here tonight?" Harry asked, his eyes traveling up and down the hallway.

"I have no idea, Mr. Potter." Tom answered, but his eyes conveyed otherwise. Harry walked into the room and grabbed his bag and Hedwig's cage. Hedwig let out another loud hoot and tucked her head underneath her wing.

"Where are you going, Mr. Potter?" Tom asked. Harry quickly pushed by him and ran down the hall, away from what he knew and what he didn't know, but running into the unknown.

"Russia."

I'd like to thank all my reviewers from Part Four. Hopefully you'll still be around for this chapter. Draco'sgal (wow, thank you so much),

 Tempestuous (I was trying to portray Harry from another light and I guess it worked. Harry can't always show the light side of himself. Look at me, I'm talking in Star Wars terms.)

 hedwig7up (Harry isn't with anybody right now. I'm trying to keep him isolated for obvious reasons.­)

 Clavel (thank you)

RadiantMoonWolf (thanks)

 Moonlight (I'm sorry I didn't continue so quickly, I've been experiencing writer's block)

 Lady Gabriella of Queensc (I'm not sure if my story is ever going to reach Hogwarts. He isn't crying because he's trying to break off all ties with loved ones.)

 Miz Zag (I explained that my parts would be short. Maybe you should read the author's note at the beginning of the parts.)

arryandermionegotogether (I'd like to see proof that Harry's one desire is to see his parents. Also, just because I chose to take another root with my story doesn't mean I'm mean.)