Red Rose Vertigo

by A Slain Immortal

The story of Harry's sixth year. Includes Harry, Ron, Hermione, Luna, Ginny, Neville, Dumbledore, Remus, and many others!. Will be an unusual fic, please read. This is my first full - length work. Read and Review!

2. Solutions

A Slain Immortal

ASlainImmortal@hotmail.com

Written: October 9, 2003

Read and Review

Author's Notes: this is a long, rather slow chapter, but it sets the scene for later. Don't worry it the story is progressing to slowly, it will speed up. I really don't want to leave out too much detail, though. Anyway, short AN this time, so go ahead and read.

Music for this Chapter

Hearshot Kid Disaster by Coheed and Cambria.

Star Struck by Yellowcard

Cruel Angel Thesis, Evangelion Soundtrack

Above Me by Rufio

Jet Black New Year by Thursday

I was in an Emo-ish mood, so there you go!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and his universe, and it's almost certain that I never will.

Have you ever heard the lyrics he sang?
In his thoughtful transmission the words lost sentence remain
Sing his song, sing his song loud

Hearshot Kid Disaster by Coheed and Cambria

Red Rose Vertigo

Chapter 2: Solutions

          July 2nd, 1996, 3:00 AM

The dark velvet sky, broken only by the pinpricks of cold light called stars, hung over the boxy houses of Privet Drive. The new moon left an eerie space in the star filled sky. On his small cot, a boy tossed and turned, his body shaking with spasms of emotion. Crystal tears leaked out of his closed eyelids and wet the tangled bed sheets. His messy hair was damp with sweat, and his breathing was quick and sharp, not at all like the deep, even, breathing of normal sleepers. A scream pierced the soundless sky, waking birds and sparking curses from people awoken by the noise. The curses died out, though, as the reality of the sound penetrated sleep – numbed minds. It was a scream of grief and rage, uncontrolled and so violent that it silenced the cursers, put birds into flight, and scared many children so much they could not sleep that night. It also signaled the overflowing of the bigoted rage that filled Vernon Dursley's mind.

          That goddamn boy! He's doing this on purpose, I know he is. I don't care what those freaks at the station said, I'll make him stop! Thinking such thoughts as these, it was no surprise that Vernon Dursley forgot that not only did his son owe his life to the boy, but that the "freaks" were checking up on the boy, and could kill him in an instant.

          Striding into Harry's room, the massive man looked down at the boy. Anyone else would have seen a boy going through such pain that their heart would melt for him in his vulnerable state, but Vernon Dursley only saw a wizard. One of them. Raising his beefy hand, he slapped the boy forcefully. It was enough to wake Harry, and the expression on his face was one of surprise and misery. Vernon raised is hand once more, but decided against causing further physical harm. So, bellowing like the bull of a man that he was, Vernon addressed Harry.

          "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, BOY? WAKING US UP AT THIS HOUR? THINK IT'S FUNNY, DO YOU? WELL, BOY, DO THAT ONE MORE TIME AND I WILL THROW YOU OUT OF THE HOUSE, NO MATTER WHAT YOUR LITTLE FRIENDS SAY!"        Vernon stalked from the room, his presence and actions leaving Harry gutted and empty. He didn't say anything, just rolled back onto the bed and closed his eyes, but not before another tear rolled down his now red cheek.

          The morning light streamed in through the window, its golden rays falling on an empty bed. The usual occupant of the bed was sitting at the scarred wooden desk, head resting in hands and hair falling everywhere.

          "What am I going to do?" moaned Harry Potter. He was faced with a rather difficult dilemma. Should he tell the Order of the Phoenix what his uncle had done to him, and perhaps get out of this wretched place more quickly, or should he keep it to himself, lest the Order start spouting things about his safety and protection, of which they knew little. Deciding that the best course of action would be not to tell anyone because he didn't want them asking that most annoying of all questions, "Are you all right?" Harry stood up to go down to breakfast. Almost surely the Dursleys would have eaten by now, which would leave him time to eat alone. Perfect, although it was odd they hadn't woken him up.

Probably because they think I'll hex Vernon for hitting me.

Just as he was about to pull open the door, he heard a tapping on his window. Outside, there was a large bird with fantastic red and gold plumage. Its wings caught the light and glowed radiantly. The very sight of the bird seemed to cause a rise in Harry's spirit. He felt as though there was someone out there who cared for him, no matter what he thought. Smiling broadly now, he opened the casement window, letting the bird into the room.

          "Hello, Fawkes. Nice of you to drop by." Fawkes stretched his leg out, and Harry saw there was a letter tied to it. Hoping it contained good news, he fumbled to undo the blue string holding it in place. When the letter was finally undone, Harry looked at it and felt a great surge of anticipation rise in his stomach, for the letter was written in that now-familiar narrow, loopy writing. Along with the anticipation came anger, as well, a small, unreasonable voice in his head asking what right Dumbledore had to be so cheerful-looking in his writing. Telling the voice to go shove itself, Harry began to read the letter, his face comically revealing every emotion going through his head.

Dear Harry,

                             I know you probably don't want to hear from me, but I ask you listen to what I have to say (Harry grimaced).  I will not let your anticipation torture you any longer, so I will give you the bad news and the good news. The bad news is that you will not go to the Burrow this summer (Outrage and Shock). The good new is that you will go to Order HQ instead, where you will meet all your friends (Previous expressions replaced by real Happiness, but this lasts only a moment). There is more bad news: You will not be going there for another three weeks, as the protection on Privet Drive needs that long to keep you as safe as possible (Now there was despair). However, these three weeks will not be like the previous days. We are allowing Ron and Hermione to come stay with you for the three weeks (Joy). Your relatives have agreed (Probably because they think it will keep me from screaming or hexing them). I sent this letter with Fawkes, so it will get to you by July 2nd. Ron and Hermione will arrive on July 3rd, at 12:00 PM on the dot. They will arrive by Portkey two miles away, and will be escorted to your house by an Order member.

As for your Daily Prophet subscription, we have never stopped you from having one. You could simply have filled out the card and we'd have let you have it. I've taken the liberty of filling out the card for you. The service will begin tomorrow, and will be delivered to your room by owl. It's prepaid, so you don't have to pay (surprise, slight happiness).

And now to more troubling matters (apprehension). Harry, the tragedies of war are not only those who perish, (tears, as the thought of Sirius flits through his mind) but also in the friendships destroyed by war (Bewilderment). Two years ago, Harry, you would have cheerfully greeted me had you seen me. Now, I fear that reaction would be rather less kind (Damn Right, thought Harry, thinking of what Dumbledore made him go through). Harry, I admit I made mistakes with you and Sirius. But I ask now, are you willing to put aside you ill feelings toward me until Voldemort is defeated? Failing that, will you trust my judgment in the war? I need to know this, as you are the most important part of the war effort. I know you think that I regard you only as a weapon, that I'm going to use your power and not care about your mind and soul. My conscience will not let me rest when I ponder this topic, for I fear that you may be right. Harry, let me tell you this flatly. You may have been in no mood to hear this in my office, and perhaps you're not now, but I do care for you, and I don't want to hurt you, nor do I enjoy it. I did what has to be done, and though I made mistakes, my intentions were good. Do you trust me, Harry?

Emotions were running high, and Harry was unable to process properly. Dumbledore had given him a long speech in apology, asking for his forgiveness or his trust. Dumbledore. Most powerful wizard in the world, Harry's headmaster. But actually thinking made him see what he had been unable to see in Dumbledore's office only a week ago. Dumbledore really did have his best intentions at heart, but he had to make the choices he did for the ultimate defeat of Voldemort. Sighing, Harry made his mental decision and looked at the parchment again.

This parchment has a Truth Spell on it, Harry. Try writing a lie on it, on the back of it. You won't be able to. Only the truth will show up on this parchment, and I want you to know that. Write whatever you want to send in response to this letter on the back, and Fawkes will take it back. If you don't write anything, then I will assume you don't trust me, and I will work to re-establish that trust in any way possible.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

Harry regarded the paper with a sense of detached unreality etched in his mind. Dumbledore was asking once and for all. Remembering his earlier decision, Harry decided to try a lie first. Writing

Severus Snape is my brother

On the parchment, Harry watched as a line of blue ink scratched it out, leaving the words still visible. He took a deep breath. Hands shaking, he wrote as neatly as he could

I forgive you, Professor Dumbledore

And watched the blue line scratch it out. Sighing, he realized the truth spell saw what was in his heart. He'd always believed truth was not absolute, but this spell said he still didn't forgive Dumbledore. It must be that deep inside, he still thought it was partly Dumbledore's fault, even though he blamed himself more. Trembling, he wrote the words

I trust you, Professor Dumbledore

On the paper. They remained.

Tying the letter to Fawkes's leg, Harry felt a strange feeling wash over him. There was extreme weariness, mixed with satisfaction and a slight sense of… healing? Harry decided he was too tired for breakfast anyway, so he collapsed on the bad only a few minutes after getting out of it, and falling asleep, his dreams filled with Ron and Hermione's upcoming arrival.

When Harry descended that sweeping staircase of the Dursley residence, he came face to face with Aunt Petunia, who was actually taller than Harry's 160 cm frame. She avoided him, acting like he didn't exist. Harry watched her walk away, nonplussed.

After a quick breakfast of a single muffin, Harry went outside, trying to get to the park that was on Magnolia Crescent. He figured the anti-apparition wards extended far enough for him to go there without the Order swooping down on him. He stepped onto the grassy field that led to the park, and was running toward the playset when a blast of loud music startled him. It was Dudley, riding around in his new Jaguar with his friends, playing that hideous music extremely loud. It was a song about violence and oppression, and Harry remembered with some anger how Dudley had started saying he was from "the 'hood" and acted like he lived "in the ghetto". Harry wanted to punch him. Dudley was a rich, spoilt white boy living in an affluent neighborhood. He didn't know poverty, violence, and oppression.

Ignoring the taunts and gestures coming from the blue car, Harry leapt onto the swing and began to propel himself. He loved swings, he always did. Before he went to Hogwarts, he loved the way they made him feel weightless, the way he felt free as a bird soaring away from all his troubles and his horrible home life. After Hogwarts, he realized this was nothing compared to flying, but it was as close as you could get in the Muggle world. Harry closed his eyes and enjoyed the rhythmic feeling the swing, the wind rushing past his face, blowing his hair –

WHAM. Harry landed flat on the ground, the wind knocked from his lungs. He saw Dudley and his gang standing over him, their faces masks of various emotions – Happiness, Amusement, Hate, Disgust, Revulsion, and Pleasure. Harry's blurred vision skewed, and for a moment he found himself in that circle of Death Eaters, their laughter mixed with the high laughter of Voldemort. He could just see Dudley standing there, Dudley and his friends like miniature Death Eaters, taking pleasure in the pain of others. Laughing hysterically, their faces contorted with mirth. It almost made him vomit, their twisted expressions of glee at causing pan. They were the Death Eaters of the Muggle world, Dudley and people like him.

Harry stood up, and couldn't guess what emotions were on his face. Anger, yes, and Disgust, definitely, but also some… Sadness?

"I saved your life. If it wasn't for me, you'd be dead. Or worse. Remember that. Touch me one more time, and I will hurt you." Harry stalked off, blood streaming from his elbows and chin. Dudley and his minions were stupefied at the thought of a small boy not only saving their fearless leader, but also threatening him. Dudley shook his head.

"Freak"

Harry looked up at the sky as he walked back to the house. He saw a small speck flying towards him, and his first instinct was to catch it like a snitch. As it came closer, thought, he could see it bobbing up and down, and he realized only one thing flew like that.

"Pig!' he shouted.

The miniature owl swooped down toward him, and he saw two scrolls attached to it. Grabbing them in one hand, and his owl in the other, he ran off to the house.

In his room, Harry opened the letters and read them carefully. When he was done, he smiled and sat on the bed.

Dear Harry,

                   It's nice to hear from you. You're right, we never really did know each other, but I suppose my stupid little crush precluded any possibility of THAT, didn't it? Listen, Harry, I want you to know this. You didn't mention Sirius in your letter at all. I understand how you feel, and as an outsider I may not be qualified to comment, but you have to know that Sirius loved you. When we were at his house over Christmas break, he showed us all how much he loved you in the way he acted. He id dead now, but his love will always be with you, and I want you to know that.

On a slightly lighter note, I'm not really dating Dean. I only said that to piss Ron off, the git. He's been insufferable about it, too. Urgh. Anyways, I'm sorry if this letter upset you, but I do think you'll be slightly more cheerful at the end of the day. If you don't know why, you'll see soon.

Friends,

Ginny

Harry stared at the letter in shock. Ginny had the courage to come out and say the truth, and he felt better for it. He knew Sirius loved him, but hearing it form someone else made him feel like it was more real. The other letter was in a way more surprising, seeing as how it was from Neville. Then again, he had written to Neville, so it wasn't so surprising.

Hey Harry,

                   It was surprising to receive a letter from you, but I'm happy you sent one. We never really got to know each other, even though we've been sleeping 10 feet away from each other for five years.  I suppose it's because you had friends very quickly into Hogwarts, so you didn't need any more. Anyway, are you continuing the DA this year? I learned an awful lot in that, so I personally hope you are. The Weasleys' are at Order HQ, and I'm there as well, because my Gran wants to be part of the Order. Ginny's done with her letter, and I don't have an owl, so I'm going to stop now.

Friends,

Neville

Harry hadn't given any thought to the DA, but after what happened last year, he was sure that if there was time, he'd definitely do the DA again. Hopefully this time it would be legal. Sighing, Harry turned away from the letters and to his homework. Harry pulled out his trunk, and extracted the necessary schoolbooks and papers. If he was going to make the most of his time spent with friends, he needed to finish his homework. Looking at the sheet that listed all his summer assignments, he was disappointed to see that two of them involved buying and reading a book, and he couldn't very well do that. Harry could imagine the look on the Dursleys' faces if he brought up the topic of Diagon Alley and wizardry. Sighing, he looked at the other homework that he could do.

Charms and Transfiguration is out. Hmm… That leaves Potions, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, Astronomy, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Well…

Harry really, really didn't want to do potions. No doubt Snape's essay would be the most difficult one of the lot. And the fact that his hatred for Snape had grown to gigantic levels didn't help one bit. He'd probably accidentally write something about killing Snape in his essay. That'd be a bit of a problem. Harry decided to get on the Care of Magical creatures assignment, before he read the sheet carefully and saw that it was crossed off, Hagrid having decided enough had happened to justify no homework.

Better do Divination, then. He read the sheet and smiled a little. At least it wouldn't be hard to fake.

Divination Year 6 Summer Work

Make a prediction for what this year will be like for you and you parents. Include at least 12 items. Use your star charts.

Harry only had to make one for himself, as his parents were long dead. The thought of their deaths didn't trouble him as much as it might have. He didn't know them, and the grief at that paled in comparison to the grief at the loss of Sirius.

Even though it's my fault they're dead, he thought with much remorse, recalling the prophecy. It all really came down to him, didn't it? Everyone who had died so far in the Voldemort War were his fault. Voldemort had been after him, and had struck at so many to get him. Voldemort didn't care, he enjoyed pain, and all Harry could do was sit and watch. It tore at his soul, to see his own helplessness. It was all because of some stupid prophecy that this was happening. If there was such a thing as Fate (and by now Harry was being forced to believe there was), then it had a sick mind.

He wondered what would happen if – when – the prophecy came to the public. Would he be blamed for all the deaths caused by his existence, or would he be given praise for taking the burden of Voldemort.

A problem for another time, I suppose.

He turned back to his Divination homework.

I'm going to go crazy talking to myself if I stay this way much longer.

Completing his predictions, he read them over. Satisfied that there was enough misery and pain in there, he threw his quill down.

Not too far of the mark, I suspect. Unfortunately.

It was just about lunchtime, so he went down the stairs –

And was greeted by the sight of his two best friends, Ron and Hermione, smiling at him from the dining table.

"Harry!" Hermione was the first to spot him, and she dashed over to him and enveloped him in a hug. She looked much the same as last year, her hair still bushy as ever, and Harry felt a deep affection for his best friend in his heart. Hermione was always a caring one.

"Hello Hermione. What are you --" He was cut off by her asking him worriedly if he was alright, whether he was having any nightmares, why he hadn't written more in his letters, and how she and Ron had begged to come a day early to surprise him.

Touched, Harry told her he was fine, though he rather avoided her questions. She really did care for him, though.

Ron had watched the whole scene with an unreadable expression, but he spoke now.

"Hey Harry. How's it going?" Harry looked at Ron, opened his mouth to reply, but then stopped. He looked again. Ron looked incredibly handsome. He had grown to six feet tall, and towered over Harry, his well-defined arms showing and his close- cropped hair revealing a good tan. He looked like he'd be making girls swoon within seconds of meeting them. Harry felt a twinge of jealousy in his heart, but he told it to go away, and it obliged.

"Her Ron. Looking good. What did you do?"

Ron turned a little red at this, and muttered something unintelligible, which sounded rather like "worked out" Harry thought this was odd, as he had seen Ron only a couple of days ago. Hermione saved him the trouble of wondering, though, as she replied.

"He's been working out even during the school year Harry. You were too busy to notice, but Ron's been looking like this for a while. Harry squirmed. It was true, he'd been either ignoring or getting angry with his friends all year.

"Listen, guys, I'm really sorry about that, I know I've been a prat, and if there's any way I can make it up to you--"

"Don't worry about it, Harry. We know what was bothering you. All's done now" This came from Hermione, and Harry shot her a grateful look.

So that's what Ginny meant in her letter. Well, well. It was thoughtful of them to do that. I should be grateful for friends like these, not constantly angry like I was last year.

It occurred to him that Aunt Petunia ought to be around, so he asked Ron where she was. Ron explained that she'd left after they'd come in, and that Harry ought to have heard the door. Harry remembered hearing it opening and closing, but he had thought it was Dudley. Never mind that now, though, Rona and Hermione were here. The gloom that had settled on him from his predictions was forgotten in the bliss of friendship. Things would not be so bad at #4 Privet Drive from now on.

July 9th, 1996. 7:45 AM

Harry lay awake in bed, contemplating the past week. Ron and Hermione had been wonderful, supporting him whenever they sensed he was down, laughing along with him whenever he felt good. Hermione even went so far as helping him with his homework. They were the picture of true friendship. He was feeling so much better, he might even be back to "normal", whatever that was, by the end of the summer. Then why, oh why, did he feel he was missing something? He felt something odd in their friendship now, a feeling of some unbalance, as though their triangle was no longer equilateral. He couldn't place it however, so he rolled over and went back to sleep.

July 16, 1996. 11:04 PM

Harry lay on his bed, thinking about his friends. His feeling of missing something was gone now, and he felt almost utterly at peace. His friends loved him, and they were there for him. Sirius was gone, but his friends were still there, and they cared for him. He wondered whether Neville and Ginny would be as good friends as Ron and Hermione. They couldn't be as close to him as the others, but they would be true friends, and for that Harry was glad. Harry turned over and tried to sleep, and found it coming surprisingly easily. Perhaps it was the fact that Aunt Petunia was treating him decently because of his friends, but he was slightly less haunted.

This time it seemed like it would last.

Permanently?

No.