**Hello all! Sorry once again for that boring instalment. From now on I'll try not to do that. My hands are a little frozen so typing is abnormally difficult. I hate this cursed weather. Anyway….
Sorry it took longer than even I expected – I spent a whole day designing the cover for the fifth Harry Potter book for a competition, then the next day with a friend. Oh well. It's better than usual.
Running for my life
And never looking back
In case there's someone right behind
To shoot me down
And say he always knew I'd fall…
Chess
This chapter has mild action. I HATE having to wait for action scenes, even if I'm not 100% brilliant at them. Should be good though.
Let me know if you want to be on the mailing list and bla bla bla…**
It was before he had started his diary. That was the first thought that struck his mind. The second was that it meant that it was the first day back.
He watched himself get out of the car that had just parked itself in the driveway of Number 4, Privet drive.
He watched the man get out of the driver's seat and push the black haired boy trying to open the boot of the car into the garage wall.
He saw the shock on his own face at the blow, just as the man told him, "You get inside. I'll handle your things."
The way he said 'things' made his Hogwarts trunk sound like something a dog had done in the street.
"That's all right, Uncle," Harry heard himself say.
The beefy man gave him another, barely distinguishable push into the garage out of anyone's sight. The easiness of it seemed to give him confidence.
The shade of Harry stood by the door, watching his past self let his uncle push him up against the other car that stood gleaming beside the gardening tools.
"I asked you to get inside," Vernon Dursely growled, their faces barely an inch apart. He grabbed his nephew by the collar of his too-large jumper and raised him off the ground.
The boy fumbled in his pockets, but there was nothing there. His wand was in his trunk.
"Now, do it." The man dropped Harry's past self and he fled, grabbing Hedwig's cage off the ground as he ran.
The owl squawked at the sudden movement as Harry flung open the front door and ran inside.
The shade of Harry's present self walked through the closed front door. He didn't' want to, but he did anyway. He walked up the stairs after the back of his past self.
He remembered this. Why was he seeing it all again?
Harry set the cage with Hedwig in it on the table and looked around.
The room was bare, stripped of practically everything that had been there before, except the furniture, and there were signs that the bars on the windows would be back when Uncle Vernon got round to inserting them in the holes in the window frame.
The stairs creaked, and the two Harrys turned around as one.
Uncle Vernon stood in the doorway.
"Where are my school things?" the past Harry asked.
Uncle Vernon's answer was to pick him up one-handed and throw him into the bed. He toppled over backwards and lay still.
The Harry shade stood by the desk, unable to cover his eyes.
"Now you see here," said Uncle Vernon. "You aren't going anywhere for the rest of your miserable life, except to do chores for your Aunt Petunia. I don't care about your Godfather or any of that rot. No one has the proof that you have a legal guardian, so that leaves you to me."
Does he even care if I'm unconscious or not? Wondered Harry.
"You've lived in this house for fourteen years, and you haven't ever paid your way. Well, see here now boy. That's going to change. No work, then no food or water, is that understood?"
The boy lying on the other side of the bed made no sound. Harry remembered that this was because of disbelief, not concussion.
"IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?" roared Uncle Vernon.
The next five minutes had been a blur of pain at the time, but now Harry saw clearly every kick, every punch, every slam into the wall.
I'm not fighting back, Harry realised. Even on that first day, I wasn't fighting back.
Harry woke at the customary five o'clock in the morning, sweating all over. The bed sheets were wrapped around him, and he tried to get out as quietly as he could.
He pulled back the curtains of his four-poster, listening to the steady breathing of his four year mates.
The gibbous moon was still high in the sky. Harry changed into his school robes, the real ones this time, and pinned the real prefect badge to it.
Then he left a note to Ron saying where he was and prepared to leave the room.
Then he realised something was missing and cursed himself for not realising it the night before.
"Damn," he muttered. "Where is that snake?" He couldn't find him anywhere, so he reverted to the original plan.
Once he was outside the portrait hole, Harry checked the fat lady was still asleep and then transformed.
He made two efforts to get to Remus' statue before he finally reached the wolf gargoyle.
Unsure of what to do, he scratched at its face with his claws. The thing came to life, and Harry leapt back. The gargoyle considered him, then opened.
Harry hung back, expecting a trick, until Remus came to the opening. "come in then, My Lord," he said with a grin.
I'll kill him, thought Harry as he bounded past the open gargoyle and into the cosy room that his old Professor lived in.
By the time Remus had closed the gargoyle, Harry had transformed.
"Why do you glare so, My Lord?" asked Remus casually.
"I'll do worse than that if you call me by that stupid name ever again."
Remus laughed. "Ali always was a bit of a romantic," he said, sitting down and motioning for Harry to do the same. "I guess she hasn't changed."
"You're telling me. How did I get in without the password?"
"The gargoyle is programmed to refuse admittance to humans. It doesn't work the same with animals."
"Ok… what are you doing up?"
"Couldn't sleep. You?"
"I always get up this early."
Remus raised one eyebrow.
"Ok. I had a dream. Not one of those," he added hastily when Remus looked worried, "just a… bad dream."
Remus seemed unsatisfied, but he did not question further. "So Harry, how does it feel now that everyone is back at school."
"I don't know. I think that's what I wanted to talk about."
Remus leant back in the large chair. "Go ahead, Harry."
For some reason that made him feel even more embarrassed than before.
"Well, I've told Ron and Hermione as much as I dare, but they both keep looking at me out of the corners of their eyes like they expect me to collapse or something."
"That is understandable," said Remus. "From what I've heard, your condition at the end of last year was enough to make any friend of yours feel concerned. And don't' forget, Hermione witnessed your 'accident' over the summer."
"But it isn't just them I'm worried about. Last year, after Cedric… after the third task, everyone skirted me in the halls, like in second year when everyone thought I was the heir of Slytherin because I was a Parselmouth."
That reminded him of something else.
"And now Sleeve's disappeared. Altogether, I'm not sure what to expect."
Remus sighed. "You're right Harry. All this at one time is too much for everyone, especially you.
"But I am afraid that it is life at the moment. Ron and Hermione, in time will realise that they have nothing to be afraid of, and the other students, though they may need a little more time, will adjust to you just as they did when you were new here."
"I haven't run into Malfoy yet," said Harry suddenly. "What do you think he'll do, now his dad's filled him in on everything that happened when… when You Know Who came back. Will nothing have changed, or does he have orders to hex me as soon as he gets the chance?"
They sat in silence for a moment. Then Remus said: "I am afraid Harry, that these are questions you are going to have to answer for yourself. Right now, lets go over some animals together that you might find useful. I doubt you found time to revise last night what with all the explaining you undoubtedly had to do…"
**************************************************
Harry sprinted down the stairs to the entrance hall, not daring to transform since it was now five past seven and both students and teachers were up and about.
Despite his haste, there weren't many people already eating breakfast in Great Hall when he arrived. On the first day of term this wasn't really surprising.
Wendy and Hagrid waved at him from the staff table. Harry grinned and waved back, then seated himself opposite Fred and George, who were the only two at the Gryffindor table except a couple of prefects at the far end.
"Hey, Harry," said George.
"Hi," said Harry.
Fred made a face. Guessing what he was disgusted about, Harry fingered his prefect badge.
"It really isn't so bad, you know," he said. "Just think, I can wander around school at all hours without having to sneak."
"Sneaking's the best part," said George, grabbing another slice of toast.
Harry laughed, even though he was obviously serious.
"While we've got you on your own, Harry," said Fred in an undertone. "Thanks again."
"Yeah," said George. "We're the richest Weasleys under twenty one in existence now, 'cept maybe Percy."
"We got the dress robes," said Fred. "The look on Ron's face was priceless. He thought we'd hexed them."
"Mum really wanted to know where we'd got the money, but we weren't telling. We said we'd got them out of our savings."
"She still doesn't know about us losing it all. When she couldn't work out why we'd done something nice for our brother without being asked she gave up."
"How'd Percy get so rich?" asked Harry, picking at his porridge.
"Didn't you hear? He got made Head of the department of International Magical Co-operation early last summer."
"He was doing all Crouch's work anyway, so they gave him the job. We thought mum and dad would be more pleased, but for some reason they're even more worried."
Harry wondered what story the ministry was telling about how Bartemius Crouch had died, but didn't dare ask.
Instead, he listened to Fred and George's chatter about what they were going to do with his Tri-wizard winnings until Ron and Hermione entered, Ron clutching a piece of
"You nearly scared me to death with that," said Ron, scrunching it into a ball and chucking at Harry. Only his Quidditch reflexes stopped it from landing with a plop in his porridge.
"I thought you'd left school, until I remembered what you said last night."
Harry unrolled it and smiled.
Ron-
Gone to see Moony.
Harry.
Fred and George were looking interested, so Harry changed the subject and kept everyone talking until the new year's timetables arrived in piles in the middle of the table.
Harry searched through the fifth year pile until he had his, Ron's and Hermione's and passed them on.
The first thing they noticed about them was that instead of short lessons scattered around the week, they now had large blocks, one before break, one after, and one after lunch.
Three lessons a day.
The second thing they noticed made them the two boys groan.
"Potions first thing on a Saturday?" moaned Ron. "We'll die!"
"And if we don't we'll get murdered in Care of Magical Creatures right after," said Harry, his breakfast forgotten. "And each lesson three times as long!"
"Honestly, does it really matter what time we have anything?" said Hermione, buttering her toast disdainfully.
"It does when we have Herbology last thing on a Friday," said Ron, glancing at Hermione's timetable too, trying to find something wrong with it.
"You're joking!" said Hermione, dropping her toast and picking up her timetable, which was now covered in marmalade. "We'll never stay awake long enough to stop being bitten by something!"
"Especially when we've got Divination first thing," said Harry with a grimace. "And again on Wednesday, look."
"What's up?" asked Neville, coming to sit with them along with Dean, Seamus, Lavender and Parvati.
"Look at this lot," said Harry. They all grabbed a timetable except Seamus, who was looking at Harry oddly. When Neville dug him in the side and gave him his timetable he jumped and took it quickly.
"These block things are weird," said Neville, reading the explanation off the back before turning it over. Then he went pale.
"Two lots of potions?"
"First thing on Saturday and half way through Thursday," said Dean. "How are we going to live through this year? And we're still with the Slytherins, damn it…"
"Two lots of potions?"
"Well," said Hermione, picking up her toast again and setting the spilt marmalade to rights. "At least we've got Defence Against the Dark Arts today. That can't be all bad."
"Two lots of potions?"
"Oh, no," said Harry.
"What?"
"Transfiguration first thing this morning."
"What's so awful about that?"
"Two lots of potions?"
"Neville, shut up."
Harry swallowed. He severely hoped that Professor McGonagall looked into her classroom before the lesson. He was now really regretting doing anything to the décor of her room.
"We won't be awake enough to enjoy Defence Against the Dark Arts anyway, Hermione," he said quickly. "History of Magic first."
Everyone groaned and Ron hit him over the head with a roll for spoiling his daydream.
"I'm going to be awake," he said firmly.
"Awww… Ronnie's got a cru-ush!" said Fred. Ron hit him with his other roll.
"Now, now, Ron," said George. "That's hardly prefect-like behaviour. I expected better from you."
Ron realised Professor McGonagall was watching him sternly and reassembled his breakfast, blushing.
The post did not arrive until all the students were in the hall.
The first years were sitting at the other end of the table, Harry could just make out Sarah Pordell sitting next to Juliet Weasley, who was talking very loudly and loading food onto Sarah's plate.
When Harry pointed this out, Ron told him that his cousin was like that all the time.
Snape had not arrived.
Hedwig did not fly down to Harry's plate to munch on his bacon rinds as usual – Harry could guess why – but Madeline swooped gracefully down to perch on Hermione's goblet rim.
After most of the owls had settled or flown off, Harry looked up and tried to see out of the glassless windows.
Suddenly, his heart beat like a drum inside his chest.
"Harry, what are you waiting for?" asked Hermione, behind him.
He couldn't answer. He waited with baited breath. If he had looked up to the staff table he would have seen the teachers gazing out of the windows too.
Harry's silence spread to those around him, until it went down the whole table and then around the whole school until everyone waited – for what, they didn't know. Most of them were looking with confusion at the teachers.
It was like that sudden silence at the theatre, when there is no signal but everyone knows instinctively that it is time to hush now, something is about to happen.
And then, through the silence, everyone distinctively heard a flap of wings. Harry got up and stood away from the bench. So did Wendy, on the opposite side of the room.
"I can handle this, Professor," said Harry clearly. Everyone turned to look at him.
All of a sudden his icy fear had vanished.
Voldemort could overpower him in graveyards, in underground caverns, in the darkness of his dreams. He wasn't going to do it here, in his home; in front of those he spent his days with, his teachers, his friends, his enemies.
"Harry," said Wendy, looking worried.
"I said, I can handle it," said Harry. Professor McGonagall helped Hagrid to pull Wendy into her seat. Harry looked at Dumbledore, who nodded at him.
The brown owl reached the window. Hundreds of pairs of eyes followed it as it flew straight towards the small black haired boy who was backing up towards the door of the Great Hall.
Harry opened the door, his eyes never leaving the owl and the letter, in a red envelope this time, coming closer and closer.
When he caught the letter as it dropped, several people gasped. It was a howler, already smoking at the edges. Quick as lightning, Harry threw it into the entrance hall and dived in behind it, pulling the door shut.
"HARRY!" Hermione screamed.
The howler exploded, ten times as loud, ten times as dangerous as a normal one. Alone in the hall, Harry dodged flames that sped his way.
The laughter sent a chill through the bones of everyone in Great Hall. Hermione and Ron sat helplessly listening to it, Fred and Seamus holding them in their places.
Mocking, cold laughter. The sound seeped through Harry's bones as he twisted and turned to get out of the way.
Oh, please don't let him start speaking. Please.
Hermione dug her nails into Seamus' palm and he yelped and let go. George grabbed her as she reached for her wand to blast open the door.
"Get off me, George!"
"HARRY POTTER!"
Several first years screamed, others put their hands over their ears. George and Fred let go of Hermione and Ron. They stayed where they were, eyes wide.
"DID YOU THINK I HAD FORGOTTEN YOU?"
Professor McGonagall stood up, Dumbledore put a hand on her shoulder.
"DON'T WORRY, HARRY POTTER…"
The Great Hall heard another great explosion; Harry ducked as a great fireball sped his way.
Cursing himself for not thinking of it before, blinded in smoke, he raised a large shield, wishing he had eaten more breakfast. He and his shield needed the energy. The silver shield stood firm as fireballs and tongues of flame bounced off it.
"I WILL NEVER FORGET YOU… YOU ARE ON THE TOP OF MY LIST, HARRY. NO NEED TO WORRY ABOUT THAT…"
I'm not worrying… believe me…
Hermione shrieked and buried her face in Ron's robes as an explosion louder than ever caused her goblet to tip over.
Then they heard Harry's voice, loud and clear above the sound of fire.
"You're really pushing your luck here, you know. The thing with the poisonous gas stuff was original, but this is downright low. Fire throwing howlers? I expected better of Y-"
Harry ducked again as something very hot flew his way.
"REALLY, I'D HAVE THOUGHT YOU WOULD HAVE BETTER MANNERS. YOU WERE RATHER RUDE, LAST TIME WE MET… YOU DIDN'T EVEN SAY GOODBYE…" carried on the pre-recorded message.
Ron closed his eyes and imagined what was going on behind those doors.
The sound of something heavy falling over, probably a suit of amour, broke him out of his reverie.
"Brilliant. Now look what You've done. I suggest You clean that u- hey!"
His shield down out of sheer cockiness, Harry had to beat flames out of his robes.
"THAT'S YOU, POTTER, NO RESPECT AND NO MANNERS. NO BRAINS EITHER. JUST LIKE YOUR FATHER, REALLY. HE THOUGHT HE HAD A CHANCE. HA!"
The insane laughter echoed once more off the stones as the students sat listening in horror.
Ron plucked up the courage to look away from the doors of the Great Hall to look at Malfoy and his cronies. Was that a smile on his face?
"NOW, HARRY, I WOULD HATE FOR YOU TO GO AWAY WITH A FALSE IDEA OF YOUR FATHER. HE FOUGHT BRAVELY. JUST NOT BRAVELY ENOUGH… I HOPE YOU'RE NOT GOING TO DISAPPOINT ME THAT WAY. I AM EXPECTING A FIGHT FROM YOU HARRY, NOT ANOTHER GAME OF HIDE AND SEEK. AND ONCE WE'RE DONE PLAYING, I'LL MOVE UP A STEP. I'LL KILL EVERYONE YOU CARE ABOUT – AND MAKE YOU WATCH. WHAT DO YOU SAY TO THAT?"
The sound of flames shooting through the air died.
Harry lowered his new shield so that the gloom of the entrance hall was only dispersed by the dim light from the windows and the burning remains of a red envelope.
There was silence from the great hall when before there had been screaming.
Harry worked his tongue around his mouth until he had enough moisture, then spat on the ashes.
"I say push off," he told it. Then he said something very rude at it in Parseltongue and turned to go into Great Hall.
"That," he said when he stood inside the enormous room, all eyes on him. "Was so unoriginal you could hang it off a garden wall and it'd rot."
He looked down and checked himself over. He was unharmed, apart from one side of his robes, which was singed. He sighed, walked back over to his seat and started eating as if nothing had happened.
Silence.
Harry looked up at the nearest table – Ravenclaw.
"Can I help you with something?" he asked. Everyone immediately returned to their meal, talking in loud voices.
Harry shook his head and dug a fork into his bacon.
The Gryffindors were the only table not eating.
"Harry," started Hermione. "What was that?"
"That," said Harry. "Was a letter from hell. Or rather, Devon."
"You didn't half make a scene," muttered Ron. "Did you think no one would notice?"
"Do you think people will notice next time, or the time after that?" Harry asked him. "If I make a big deal out of it this first time, I can get rid of the others without bother – though I wish I'd made it into the grounds. Did it have to be so loud?"
"Others?" Neville squeaked.
"Just because He made His point on the first day of school doesn't mean He's giving up, Neville," said Harry. "Although I hope He uses His imagination next time. I need the practise."
"A simple 'no' would have sufficed," said Ron, still shocked but managing to be annoyed too. He glanced down to the end of the table. "You realise you've scared all the first years out of their trousers?"
"They'll see worse." Harry shrugged. "They may as well start now."
"That's a cheerful outlook," said George with a frown.
"Yes, it is, isn't it?" said Harry. He managed to say it in a way that no one argued with him.
Wendy met him in the Entrance hall after breakfast. "Brilliant!" she said, hugging him.
"Gerroff," said Harry. "Any news of Snape?"
"Not a dickey bird. I asked Dumbledore if he'd sent someone out to look for him but he said he trusted Snape to be cynical enough to keep himself alive. You might want to do something about that," she said, nodding at the burnt off edge of his black school robe.
"Sure," said Harry. "We'll see you this afternoon, then?"
"Yes. You're my first lesson. I have to take two of Snape's classes this morning. I hear McGonagall has you first?"
Harry groaned again. Wendy laughed.
"Hopefully she won't be too angry," she said with an evil smile.
"I'll blame it all on you," said Harry, conscious that Ron and Hermione were listening.
"You'd better not. Your handiwork, your excuse. Bye!"
She hurried off down the stairs to the dungeons.
"I didn't know she was qualified for potions," said Harry thoughtfully, to no one in particular.
"She doesn't have to be," said Hermione, as they commenced their walk up the stairs. "She can just tell them to copy things up from the textbooks. Harry, what did you two mean when you were talking about McGonagall?"
The question was simple enough, but her tone meant, I really don't like it when people keep secrets from me.
Since Harry knew how that felt, he answered.
"I made a little change to her classroom," he said, red-faced. "It's only a little change, but I don't think she's been in there since I arrived. If she suspects me I'm dead."
"You're doomed," Ron admitted. "You'll just have to make the best of the time you have left with us."
Harry walked in silence the rest of the way, while his two friends argued about what they would be studying in Transfiguration this year.
Ron had not spoken in earnest of course, but Harry couldn't' help thinking how true his words could eventually be.
You'll have to make the best of the time you have left with us.
And I intend to, thought Harry firmly as they joined the queue outside McGonagall's classroom and he fixed the burnt edge of his robe with a glare.
I intend to.
**What's to say? Hope you liked it. I did – so much better than the last. Oh yeah, I've updated my bio, like if anyone cares. It's kind of funny.
Thank you everyone for all your brilliant reviews in the face of that awful chapter.
Sorry – I know I usually comment on your reviews but I want to get this chapter up before the night is out and get it off my chest or I won't be able to sleep. (Not that I will anyway, with school looming in the distance.
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