Part 2
I put a disclaimer on part one so that will have to do you.
Brief summary- Harry turn to think over the past years events, but he's interupted.
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Harry lay in his bed, eyes fixed on the celling. It was boring, he was bored. Although he'd had more power at the Dursley's this summer, due to members of the Order threatening them, he still felt trapped. This time it was less because of the Dursley's and much more because of himself. He'd even done some of his normal tasks for the Dursley's just to try and distract himself, he'd done some cooking, tea making, gardening and car washing but they did little to refocus his mind. No, his mind was still firmly fixed on thoughts of Hogwarts, Voldemort, the ministry of magic and Sirius.
Year five at Hogwarts had been hell, even more so than his fourth year when he had watched Cedric die. His life was hell, he was destined to kill or be killed, his only real purpose in life was to fight Voldemort. No wonder he was a bloody misery he though to himself. Year five had got worse and worse, starting with that stupid Umbridge women from the Ministry of Magic, Dumbledore getting thrown out of Hogwarts, Snape's occlumancy lessons, his failed 'thing' with Cho, Sirius' death and Dumbledore's confessions. It really had been a bad year for Harry Potter 'the boy who lived'.
Sirius was dead, his only real link to his father was dead. Worst of all it was Harry's fault, through mere stupidity and arrogance he'd got his godfather killed. The memory of Sirius falling into the mirror replayed again and he shook himself to try and stop it but to no avail. The memory had swept through his mind at least twenty times every day and he could bare it no longer. He so desperately wanted to hex something in temper, his cousin perhaps or maybe Dumbledore. Dumbledore had kept Sirius in a situation where he was virtually locked up and it had drove Sirius mad. He felt useless and helpless, like some sort of wild animal in a cage. So when Sirius did come out to rescue Harry he was not thinking straight, he was rash and brave rather than careful and collected. It got him killed.
Snape was to blame too, at least, Harry liked blaming him. He was an easy target of course as he and Harry certainly didn't get on and certainly did not have a good working relationship, nor any real toleration of the other. However, Snape's part in the matter was more limited than Harry felt happy admitting. Snape had dug at Sirius about being useless but he doubted it made as much difference to Sirius behaviour as he had first thought, the blame for that was still with Dumbledore. Snape's part in Harry's mistake was large but it was fair to say that it was mainly Harry's fault that Snape made those mistakes. Firstly, if Harry had tried at Occlumancy he would have not made the mistake he did and Sirius wouldn't be dead. Snape had kicked Harry out of Occlumancy and told him never to come back. However, Harry had not been trying, he'd wanted to see what he was being shown in his dreams and therefore the lessons were doing no good anyway, only making him feel drained. No, if he'd have listened to Dumbledore and Hermione and actually tried and not let his dislike of Snape get in the way then he would still have his godfather and Lupin would still have his best friend.
Of course, Snape had every right to be angry with him after what he had done that night when Snape wasn't there. Looking into someone's private memories was certainly not right and Harry had no idea what possessed him to look in Snape's pensive. However, part of him was still glad he had because although he had not liked what he saw, he felt he needed to know.
He had felt sorry for Snape, seeing him being taunted like that. He'd also felt sympathy and understanding as it had reminded him of what Dudley and his friends used to do to him. The worst thing about that comparison was that the 'Dudley' in Snape's memory had been his father and Sirius. He'd known that they had been mischievous, they were the Marauders after all. However, what they had done to Snape was not funny or clever, it was damn right cruel. They must have done such things a lot too as Snape was expecting the onslaught. Harry could only hope that his father had grown up a lot in a short space of time before seventh year so that his mother (Lily) had married him.
Harry could not blame Snape for hating his father and Sirius, but he was Harry Potter, not James Potter and Snape had no right to automatically hate him. He'd never known his father so how the hell did Snape expect Harry to walk through the school doors and just be like him, did he think it ran in the Potter blood? It was ridiculous and infuriating because in many ways he and Snape were more alike than he and his father ever would be. That was a terrifying thought.
Harry could actually see himself turning into Snape when he was older...if he got older. He could see himself being a bitter, lonely miserable Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, biting the heads of students just because they existed. Oh yes, Harry Potter could end up being the war torn man that Snape was but for one thing, Harry had people who truly cared for him, something he doubted Snape ever had. So perhaps Harry would end up being just as miserable as Snape but just be better at hiding it. He wore a mask every day of his life and he was sure that would always continue. He could imagine himself sitting at the teachers table at the Great Hall with a smile plastered on his face but muttering insults at the kids under his breath, probably sitting next to Snape exchanging the odd glare just because it was more fun than just simply sitting there. The signs were not good.
Harry was brought out of his thoughts by his uncle calling him so he got up and went downstairs.
"Were going out now Harry" Petunia stated as he reached the bottom of the stairs, "We wont be back till 1 or 2 am"
"Yes" Vernon cut in more harshly, "So don't do anything stupid, break anything or get yourself hurt, don't want those freaks getting angry for somethings that your own bloody fault"
"Yes Uncle" Harry said calmly, it would do him no harm to force out some nice reply's so they'd go quicker.
"Very well" said Vernon, he turned to Dudley and Petunia "All ready to go?"
They were, to Harry joy and they all trekked past him and out of the house wearing there best dinner clothes, they were going to some sort of meal and prize presentation involving Vernon's work.
This gave Harry some time to send Ron and Hermione a letter, eat some snack food and watch some TV. Harry loved it when the Dursley's went out and left him on his own, even when he felt really bad it still managed to cheer him up slightly.
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Harry had spent most of the evening watching TV but had gone up to his room at about 11pm to read one of his school books for Defence Against Dark Arts class. Whilst he was engrossed in his book he heard a loud bang on the door, he glanced out of his window and nearly fainted. In front of his door where five Death Eaters, all very ready to come in and say hi.
"Oh shit" muttered Harry to himself, he was totally helpless up here as his wand and other magical stuff was in the cupboard under the stairs for safe keeping. That was right by the front door and somehow Harry couldn't see himself being able to get it without being hexed a few hundred times.
There was a loud bang and a noise that sounded suspiciously like the front door being ripped of its hinges.
"Oh shit" he muttered again and he ran to his bedroom door and pulled both the latches across. It wasn't like it would stop them, but it would give him a couple more seconds. He heard a a very familiar voice from downstairs.
"You all look down here, I'll go upstairs. Remember, if you find him, don't kill him."
It was Lucius Malfoy, bloody Malfoy was in his house and coming upstairs. He could here him on the steps.
"At least its not Voldy himself" muttered Harry under his breath. He glanced round to find some sort of weapon. He had a choice of worn socks, a cup, two pillows or a book. The later seemed the best option and he picked up the book he'd been reading of the bed and stepped to the side of the door, leaning against his cupboard.
"Come out Potter, i know you're in there" said Malfoy evilly from outside his door. Harry heard the man snigger and felt pretty damn pissed off.
"Yeah i know i am to Malfoy, what's wrong? Cant you open a door on your own?" Harry said casually, trying to sound confident. There was another snigger and the door unlocked and began to open. Harry swung his book at Lucius as he stepped into the room but to little avail as Malfoy senior managed to hit it out his hand.
"Damn" muttered Harry, raising his eyebrows and glancing at his watch "To what do i owe this pleasure at such a late hour?"
Lucius obviously did not enjoy Harry's sarcasm and he pushed him across the room so Harry hit the far wall with a hard thump. He did not show any signs of pain though to Lucius Malfoy.
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I wasn't going to continue this but then i decieded to. I had an idea about how it could turn into a longer story rather than a stand alone peice that i liked so i thought what the hell, i'll do it.
******************************************************************************************
I put a disclaimer on part one so that will have to do you.
Brief summary- Harry turn to think over the past years events, but he's interupted.
*************************************************************************************************
Harry lay in his bed, eyes fixed on the celling. It was boring, he was bored. Although he'd had more power at the Dursley's this summer, due to members of the Order threatening them, he still felt trapped. This time it was less because of the Dursley's and much more because of himself. He'd even done some of his normal tasks for the Dursley's just to try and distract himself, he'd done some cooking, tea making, gardening and car washing but they did little to refocus his mind. No, his mind was still firmly fixed on thoughts of Hogwarts, Voldemort, the ministry of magic and Sirius.
Year five at Hogwarts had been hell, even more so than his fourth year when he had watched Cedric die. His life was hell, he was destined to kill or be killed, his only real purpose in life was to fight Voldemort. No wonder he was a bloody misery he though to himself. Year five had got worse and worse, starting with that stupid Umbridge women from the Ministry of Magic, Dumbledore getting thrown out of Hogwarts, Snape's occlumancy lessons, his failed 'thing' with Cho, Sirius' death and Dumbledore's confessions. It really had been a bad year for Harry Potter 'the boy who lived'.
Sirius was dead, his only real link to his father was dead. Worst of all it was Harry's fault, through mere stupidity and arrogance he'd got his godfather killed. The memory of Sirius falling into the mirror replayed again and he shook himself to try and stop it but to no avail. The memory had swept through his mind at least twenty times every day and he could bare it no longer. He so desperately wanted to hex something in temper, his cousin perhaps or maybe Dumbledore. Dumbledore had kept Sirius in a situation where he was virtually locked up and it had drove Sirius mad. He felt useless and helpless, like some sort of wild animal in a cage. So when Sirius did come out to rescue Harry he was not thinking straight, he was rash and brave rather than careful and collected. It got him killed.
Snape was to blame too, at least, Harry liked blaming him. He was an easy target of course as he and Harry certainly didn't get on and certainly did not have a good working relationship, nor any real toleration of the other. However, Snape's part in the matter was more limited than Harry felt happy admitting. Snape had dug at Sirius about being useless but he doubted it made as much difference to Sirius behaviour as he had first thought, the blame for that was still with Dumbledore. Snape's part in Harry's mistake was large but it was fair to say that it was mainly Harry's fault that Snape made those mistakes. Firstly, if Harry had tried at Occlumancy he would have not made the mistake he did and Sirius wouldn't be dead. Snape had kicked Harry out of Occlumancy and told him never to come back. However, Harry had not been trying, he'd wanted to see what he was being shown in his dreams and therefore the lessons were doing no good anyway, only making him feel drained. No, if he'd have listened to Dumbledore and Hermione and actually tried and not let his dislike of Snape get in the way then he would still have his godfather and Lupin would still have his best friend.
Of course, Snape had every right to be angry with him after what he had done that night when Snape wasn't there. Looking into someone's private memories was certainly not right and Harry had no idea what possessed him to look in Snape's pensive. However, part of him was still glad he had because although he had not liked what he saw, he felt he needed to know.
He had felt sorry for Snape, seeing him being taunted like that. He'd also felt sympathy and understanding as it had reminded him of what Dudley and his friends used to do to him. The worst thing about that comparison was that the 'Dudley' in Snape's memory had been his father and Sirius. He'd known that they had been mischievous, they were the Marauders after all. However, what they had done to Snape was not funny or clever, it was damn right cruel. They must have done such things a lot too as Snape was expecting the onslaught. Harry could only hope that his father had grown up a lot in a short space of time before seventh year so that his mother (Lily) had married him.
Harry could not blame Snape for hating his father and Sirius, but he was Harry Potter, not James Potter and Snape had no right to automatically hate him. He'd never known his father so how the hell did Snape expect Harry to walk through the school doors and just be like him, did he think it ran in the Potter blood? It was ridiculous and infuriating because in many ways he and Snape were more alike than he and his father ever would be. That was a terrifying thought.
Harry could actually see himself turning into Snape when he was older...if he got older. He could see himself being a bitter, lonely miserable Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, biting the heads of students just because they existed. Oh yes, Harry Potter could end up being the war torn man that Snape was but for one thing, Harry had people who truly cared for him, something he doubted Snape ever had. So perhaps Harry would end up being just as miserable as Snape but just be better at hiding it. He wore a mask every day of his life and he was sure that would always continue. He could imagine himself sitting at the teachers table at the Great Hall with a smile plastered on his face but muttering insults at the kids under his breath, probably sitting next to Snape exchanging the odd glare just because it was more fun than just simply sitting there. The signs were not good.
Harry was brought out of his thoughts by his uncle calling him so he got up and went downstairs.
"Were going out now Harry" Petunia stated as he reached the bottom of the stairs, "We wont be back till 1 or 2 am"
"Yes" Vernon cut in more harshly, "So don't do anything stupid, break anything or get yourself hurt, don't want those freaks getting angry for somethings that your own bloody fault"
"Yes Uncle" Harry said calmly, it would do him no harm to force out some nice reply's so they'd go quicker.
"Very well" said Vernon, he turned to Dudley and Petunia "All ready to go?"
They were, to Harry joy and they all trekked past him and out of the house wearing there best dinner clothes, they were going to some sort of meal and prize presentation involving Vernon's work.
This gave Harry some time to send Ron and Hermione a letter, eat some snack food and watch some TV. Harry loved it when the Dursley's went out and left him on his own, even when he felt really bad it still managed to cheer him up slightly.
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Harry had spent most of the evening watching TV but had gone up to his room at about 11pm to read one of his school books for Defence Against Dark Arts class. Whilst he was engrossed in his book he heard a loud bang on the door, he glanced out of his window and nearly fainted. In front of his door where five Death Eaters, all very ready to come in and say hi.
"Oh shit" muttered Harry to himself, he was totally helpless up here as his wand and other magical stuff was in the cupboard under the stairs for safe keeping. That was right by the front door and somehow Harry couldn't see himself being able to get it without being hexed a few hundred times.
There was a loud bang and a noise that sounded suspiciously like the front door being ripped of its hinges.
"Oh shit" he muttered again and he ran to his bedroom door and pulled both the latches across. It wasn't like it would stop them, but it would give him a couple more seconds. He heard a a very familiar voice from downstairs.
"You all look down here, I'll go upstairs. Remember, if you find him, don't kill him."
It was Lucius Malfoy, bloody Malfoy was in his house and coming upstairs. He could here him on the steps.
"At least its not Voldy himself" muttered Harry under his breath. He glanced round to find some sort of weapon. He had a choice of worn socks, a cup, two pillows or a book. The later seemed the best option and he picked up the book he'd been reading of the bed and stepped to the side of the door, leaning against his cupboard.
"Come out Potter, i know you're in there" said Malfoy evilly from outside his door. Harry heard the man snigger and felt pretty damn pissed off.
"Yeah i know i am to Malfoy, what's wrong? Cant you open a door on your own?" Harry said casually, trying to sound confident. There was another snigger and the door unlocked and began to open. Harry swung his book at Lucius as he stepped into the room but to little avail as Malfoy senior managed to hit it out his hand.
"Damn" muttered Harry, raising his eyebrows and glancing at his watch "To what do i owe this pleasure at such a late hour?"
Lucius obviously did not enjoy Harry's sarcasm and he pushed him across the room so Harry hit the far wall with a hard thump. He did not show any signs of pain though to Lucius Malfoy.
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I wasn't going to continue this but then i decieded to. I had an idea about how it could turn into a longer story rather than a stand alone peice that i liked so i thought what the hell, i'll do it.
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