Disclaimer: Obviously, I didn't write the Harry Potter series. J.K.
Rowling is responsible for those masterpieces, and I will always worship
her for it. Please don't sue me. I'm already poor and my mom would yell
at me.
Author's Notes:
Wow! Thanks so much to my four reviewers, I really appreciate it. Omagic, your advice is extremely helpful and your encouragement was wonderful. By the way, I have been a reader of Harry Potter and the Fire of Life from the beginning (I'm even a member of your Yahoo Group). Great story! You are one of my role models, so you can imagine what it meant to me that you gave me such a great review. Also, thanks to kateydidnt (btw I've seen you reviewing around some of my favorite stories, so your review of mine was also a nice surprise), dancer891234567789 (don't worry, I'll try to get to make the point of the story clear soon), and Providence-of-a-Sparrow (right on with the title)!
Also, I'm going to try something that the wonderful author TiniTinuviel does. Since some of my inspiration comes from songs, I will use song titles for chapter names from here on out. Tini, if you are reading this and my use of your idea bothers you in anyway, just let me know and I'll stop. Anyway, if anybody can name the band that plays the song I use, please put it in a review! The most I can do to reward you is recognize you in the next chapter, but I'd like to know if anybody is listening to the same music as me!
Now, on with the story...
Chapter Two: The Loneliest Person I Know
Harry was out of bed and preparing breakfast for the Dursleys by six-thirty in the morning. His sleep after the dream had been fitful and interrupted, and he was sure the dark circles under his eyes were now more pronounced. Before his thoughts could be drawn back into the sounds of his parents' and godfather's disappointed scolding and his friends' tortured screams, Harry whipped out the ingredients for French toast and began mixing the batter. As he dipped slices of bread in the eggy mixture, he couldn't help but muse that he was becoming an expert at evading his own unpleasant thoughts. If only I was half as good at emptying my thoughts as I am at diverting them, I would have no trouble at all with Occlumency.
Harry was slapping several slices of French toast onto the skillet to cook when an idea came to him. Perhaps instead of emptying his mind, he could simply train it to focus intently on something that didn't present any information of use to Voldemort. Harry pictured the "Dark Lord" trying to get a glimpse of his memories and then throwing a hissy fit when all he could discern was the image of French toast sizzling on a muggle stovetop. He was surprised to hear a low chuckle escape his throat at the thought.
"Finally gone nutters, have you cousin? Laughing with the voices in your head?" snickered Dudley, who was still so alarmingly obese that his whole body quivered with the simple effort of speaking.
Harry was surprised his cousin had worked up the courage to attempt to insult him after last summer. For awhile, he thought Dudley's encounter with the Dementors had changed him. Of course, it was probably more stupidity and family tradition fueling Dudley's mouth than audacity.
"Yes, well, the voices were just telling me how even they wouldn't be caught dead associating with you. Speaking of which, do you have girlfriend, Dudley?" Harry asked, straight-faced.
Dudley looked very confused for a few moments, and Harry could practically see the wheels turning in his hog-like head. Finally, it seemed that Dudley had registered the words as an insult even though he didn't understand the meaning. However, before he could retaliate, Aunt Petunia marched into the kitchen and began doting on him.
Harry's presence was completely ignored throughout the course of breakfast, which suited him just fine. The fact that he had fixed the entire meal unasked also went unnoticed. Uncle Vernon was the only person to acknowledge Harry's existence, and that was only to assign an enormous list of chores to be completed by the time he returned from work.
Several hours later, Harry was sweating profusely with the effort of weeding the garden under the blisteringly hot sun. Aunt Petunia was out shopping alone, under the delusion that her precious son was helping Pier's mother polish her silver. Harry was pretty sure that was code for Dudley and Pier's stealing his mother's silver to pawn off for extra pounds for cigarettes.
Contrary to what Uncle Vernon certainly thought, Harry rather enjoyed having an impossible list of chores to complete. It guaranteed he would have very little time to contemplate the severe degree to which his life sucked. Running himself ragged imitating a house elf also made it difficult to analyze all of his flaws and all the ways he had failed his friends, family, and the wizarding world as a whole.
So furiously was Harry uprooting and tossing weeds that he failed to notice Nymphadora Tonks walking up to him. She took two handfuls of dirt and dandelions to the face before clearing her throat to catch his attention. Harry was turned around with his wand aimed for the space directly between her eyes a millisecond later. Tonks was taken aback by his speed and the glint of anger and determination in his eyes, and immediately raised her hands in a calming motion.
"Whoa there, young Auror," said Tonks. Convinced now that he wasn't going to curse her, she lowered her hands and smiled at the edgy young man. "Wotcher, Harry. You're well on your way to becoming the son Mad-Eye Moody never knew he always wanted."
Harry's expression clearly stated his opinion that she was slightly off her rocker. He lowered his wand and heaved a sigh. "Sorry Tonks. I guess I am a little jumpy."
"Well, I suppose the Boy-Who-Lived can't be too careful," she replied nonchalantly. "Anyway, I won't ask how you've been. I can tell just by looking at you."
Harry couldn't work up the will to look offended. He knew it was true. Even with the beginnings of what promised to be a painful sunburn, his skin was a pasty white. The dark smudges under his eyes were evidence of his sleepless nights, and his arms and legs trembled ever so slightly with exhaustion. Also, the devastating heat had prompted him to work shirtless and his ribs and shoulder blades stood out harshly.
Harry missed the look of concern that washed over Tonks' usually sunny face as he began staring intently at his bare feet.
"Look, Harry. I didn't beg the Order to let me visit you today so I could lecture you on dealing with grief and taking care of yourself and eating your vegetables and blah, blah, blah..." Tonks rolled her eyes and gathered her nerves. "Honestly, I think what you've had to go through not only in the last few months, but in your entire life is just awful. And no offense, but I've been watching these Dursleys for a little while and I can't believe they're related to you. Sorry, I'm getting off track. What I've been meaning to say is that if you ever need someone to talk to or just blow off some steam with, I'd be happy to listen. Merlin knows no one can really understand what you're feeling, but I'll do anything I can to make it easier for you. And don't worry; I'm rubbish at giving philosophical advice, so you won't feel like you're being lectured by Dumbledore or anything. The last thing you need is another teacher. I just want you to know that you're not on your own here. Plus, I know some great and bloody embarrassing stories from Sirius' younger years if you'd ever like to hear 'em," she finished with a grin.
Harry just stared at her for a second. He wasn't used to being treated like an equal by any member of the Order except for Sirius. Even with Remus, Harry felt like most of what he said was being picked apart and judged until an appropriate, educational response could be found. Still, Harry wasn't sure if he was ready or if he would EVER be ready to bare his soul to another person. After all, he had grown up under the impression that no one cared or wanted to hear what he thought. Tonks, however, had a way of putting him at ease and he doubted she would ever try to make him feel foolish for sharing his troubles.
Deciding he would think on her proposal, Harry afforded her a small smile and a nod. "That might be nice."
A broad smile lit up Tonks' features and she nodded back. "Good then. Now, on to business. I have a message from Professor Dumbledore that you are not going to like."
Harry frowned; this couldn't be good.
"He asked me to tell you not to wander far from home. No further than three blocks, actually, which is where the protection wards end," Tonks said with a grimace.
Harry could feel the anger building. "So it's not enough that I'm stuck here half the summer to begin with? Now I can't even set foot outside this neighborhood?" Harry nearly shouted, fists clenched.
"I know, Harry, and I'm sorry. Dumbledore just doesn't think its safe..."
"And safety's obviously more important than freedom, yes, don't worry. I've heard it all before," finished Harry, with a scowl.
Tonks flinched, and didn't seem to know how to reply. Harry noticed her silence and immediately regretted being so harsh with her. After all, if anyone was to blame for his predicament, it was Harry himself. And Dumbledore.
At the moment, Harry wasn't sure how to feel toward the Headmaster. He wanted to be able to forgive the man for ignoring him the previous year and for keeping important information from him, but at the same time he felt betrayed. After all, Harry had put complete faith in the Headmaster and had been more open with him than almost any other person in his life on several occasions. Now Harry felt foolish for blindly trusting the man. The whole time Dumbledore had been keeping secrets concerning his own life from him.
Harry sighed. "I'm sorry Tonks; I shouldn't have yelled. I know it's not your fault. Professor Dumbledore didn't happen to give you an exact reason as to why I can't leave, did he?"
Tonks just shook her head sheepishly.
"Didn't think so," mumbled Harry, glaring off into the distance.
"Harry, he's doing the best he can. The poor man's been running himself ragged trying to lead the Order and keep up with his duties as Headmaster at the same time. Plus, having to work with Fudge now is taking its toll as well. Dumbledore has to guide the silly prat through every step of putting the ministry on alert and preparing for war."
Harry, still slightly angry, couldn't bring himself to feel sorry for Fudge or Dumbledore. He decided a change of subject was necessary. "How is Professor Lupin, Tonks?"
It was Tonks' turn to sigh. "I suppose he's alright. He and Albus had a little disagreement on something—I'm not sure what—but I haven't seen him around Headquarters for a few days. It's been hard for him; between losing Sirius and worrying about you, he's got quite a bit on his plate at the moment. By the way, he's not your professor anymore in case you haven't noticed. You can call him Remus."
Harry felt his face heat slightly at the mention of Remus being worried for him. He didn't deserve the man's concern; he had almost single-handedly wiped out every friend he had. His embarrassment was soon replaced with confusion, though. What would cause his former professor to argue with Dumbledore?
Before he could continue that train of thought, Tonks spoke up again. "Well, I've got to be off soon. Auror business and all," she rolled her eyes. "Mundungus will be on guard duty tonight, so if you hear any loud noises or cursing coming from out of nowhere, don't be alarmed. I'll see you soon; in the meantime, take care of yourself." Harry stood up to see her off, brushing dirt and grass off his pants.
"Oh! Before I forget..." She fumbled in her robes and her hands came out holding a stoppered bottle. "I managed to glean some Dreamless Sleep potion off Madam Pompfrey. Don't take it more than two days in a row, and you'll need another two days in between doses. Sorry, it's the best I could do," she smiled apologetically as she handed over the bottle.
"No, this is great! Thank you," Harry replied, wide-eyed and grateful for her thoughtfulness and subtlety. It would be wonderful to escape the nightmares, even if only for a few days a week. The summer was beginning to look a little less bleak.
After a brief hug and a wave goodbye, Tonks began the long walk back to the edge of the wards surrounding Number 4 Privet Drive.
Author's Notes:
Wow! Thanks so much to my four reviewers, I really appreciate it. Omagic, your advice is extremely helpful and your encouragement was wonderful. By the way, I have been a reader of Harry Potter and the Fire of Life from the beginning (I'm even a member of your Yahoo Group). Great story! You are one of my role models, so you can imagine what it meant to me that you gave me such a great review. Also, thanks to kateydidnt (btw I've seen you reviewing around some of my favorite stories, so your review of mine was also a nice surprise), dancer891234567789 (don't worry, I'll try to get to make the point of the story clear soon), and Providence-of-a-Sparrow (right on with the title)!
Also, I'm going to try something that the wonderful author TiniTinuviel does. Since some of my inspiration comes from songs, I will use song titles for chapter names from here on out. Tini, if you are reading this and my use of your idea bothers you in anyway, just let me know and I'll stop. Anyway, if anybody can name the band that plays the song I use, please put it in a review! The most I can do to reward you is recognize you in the next chapter, but I'd like to know if anybody is listening to the same music as me!
Now, on with the story...
Chapter Two: The Loneliest Person I Know
Harry was out of bed and preparing breakfast for the Dursleys by six-thirty in the morning. His sleep after the dream had been fitful and interrupted, and he was sure the dark circles under his eyes were now more pronounced. Before his thoughts could be drawn back into the sounds of his parents' and godfather's disappointed scolding and his friends' tortured screams, Harry whipped out the ingredients for French toast and began mixing the batter. As he dipped slices of bread in the eggy mixture, he couldn't help but muse that he was becoming an expert at evading his own unpleasant thoughts. If only I was half as good at emptying my thoughts as I am at diverting them, I would have no trouble at all with Occlumency.
Harry was slapping several slices of French toast onto the skillet to cook when an idea came to him. Perhaps instead of emptying his mind, he could simply train it to focus intently on something that didn't present any information of use to Voldemort. Harry pictured the "Dark Lord" trying to get a glimpse of his memories and then throwing a hissy fit when all he could discern was the image of French toast sizzling on a muggle stovetop. He was surprised to hear a low chuckle escape his throat at the thought.
"Finally gone nutters, have you cousin? Laughing with the voices in your head?" snickered Dudley, who was still so alarmingly obese that his whole body quivered with the simple effort of speaking.
Harry was surprised his cousin had worked up the courage to attempt to insult him after last summer. For awhile, he thought Dudley's encounter with the Dementors had changed him. Of course, it was probably more stupidity and family tradition fueling Dudley's mouth than audacity.
"Yes, well, the voices were just telling me how even they wouldn't be caught dead associating with you. Speaking of which, do you have girlfriend, Dudley?" Harry asked, straight-faced.
Dudley looked very confused for a few moments, and Harry could practically see the wheels turning in his hog-like head. Finally, it seemed that Dudley had registered the words as an insult even though he didn't understand the meaning. However, before he could retaliate, Aunt Petunia marched into the kitchen and began doting on him.
Harry's presence was completely ignored throughout the course of breakfast, which suited him just fine. The fact that he had fixed the entire meal unasked also went unnoticed. Uncle Vernon was the only person to acknowledge Harry's existence, and that was only to assign an enormous list of chores to be completed by the time he returned from work.
Several hours later, Harry was sweating profusely with the effort of weeding the garden under the blisteringly hot sun. Aunt Petunia was out shopping alone, under the delusion that her precious son was helping Pier's mother polish her silver. Harry was pretty sure that was code for Dudley and Pier's stealing his mother's silver to pawn off for extra pounds for cigarettes.
Contrary to what Uncle Vernon certainly thought, Harry rather enjoyed having an impossible list of chores to complete. It guaranteed he would have very little time to contemplate the severe degree to which his life sucked. Running himself ragged imitating a house elf also made it difficult to analyze all of his flaws and all the ways he had failed his friends, family, and the wizarding world as a whole.
So furiously was Harry uprooting and tossing weeds that he failed to notice Nymphadora Tonks walking up to him. She took two handfuls of dirt and dandelions to the face before clearing her throat to catch his attention. Harry was turned around with his wand aimed for the space directly between her eyes a millisecond later. Tonks was taken aback by his speed and the glint of anger and determination in his eyes, and immediately raised her hands in a calming motion.
"Whoa there, young Auror," said Tonks. Convinced now that he wasn't going to curse her, she lowered her hands and smiled at the edgy young man. "Wotcher, Harry. You're well on your way to becoming the son Mad-Eye Moody never knew he always wanted."
Harry's expression clearly stated his opinion that she was slightly off her rocker. He lowered his wand and heaved a sigh. "Sorry Tonks. I guess I am a little jumpy."
"Well, I suppose the Boy-Who-Lived can't be too careful," she replied nonchalantly. "Anyway, I won't ask how you've been. I can tell just by looking at you."
Harry couldn't work up the will to look offended. He knew it was true. Even with the beginnings of what promised to be a painful sunburn, his skin was a pasty white. The dark smudges under his eyes were evidence of his sleepless nights, and his arms and legs trembled ever so slightly with exhaustion. Also, the devastating heat had prompted him to work shirtless and his ribs and shoulder blades stood out harshly.
Harry missed the look of concern that washed over Tonks' usually sunny face as he began staring intently at his bare feet.
"Look, Harry. I didn't beg the Order to let me visit you today so I could lecture you on dealing with grief and taking care of yourself and eating your vegetables and blah, blah, blah..." Tonks rolled her eyes and gathered her nerves. "Honestly, I think what you've had to go through not only in the last few months, but in your entire life is just awful. And no offense, but I've been watching these Dursleys for a little while and I can't believe they're related to you. Sorry, I'm getting off track. What I've been meaning to say is that if you ever need someone to talk to or just blow off some steam with, I'd be happy to listen. Merlin knows no one can really understand what you're feeling, but I'll do anything I can to make it easier for you. And don't worry; I'm rubbish at giving philosophical advice, so you won't feel like you're being lectured by Dumbledore or anything. The last thing you need is another teacher. I just want you to know that you're not on your own here. Plus, I know some great and bloody embarrassing stories from Sirius' younger years if you'd ever like to hear 'em," she finished with a grin.
Harry just stared at her for a second. He wasn't used to being treated like an equal by any member of the Order except for Sirius. Even with Remus, Harry felt like most of what he said was being picked apart and judged until an appropriate, educational response could be found. Still, Harry wasn't sure if he was ready or if he would EVER be ready to bare his soul to another person. After all, he had grown up under the impression that no one cared or wanted to hear what he thought. Tonks, however, had a way of putting him at ease and he doubted she would ever try to make him feel foolish for sharing his troubles.
Deciding he would think on her proposal, Harry afforded her a small smile and a nod. "That might be nice."
A broad smile lit up Tonks' features and she nodded back. "Good then. Now, on to business. I have a message from Professor Dumbledore that you are not going to like."
Harry frowned; this couldn't be good.
"He asked me to tell you not to wander far from home. No further than three blocks, actually, which is where the protection wards end," Tonks said with a grimace.
Harry could feel the anger building. "So it's not enough that I'm stuck here half the summer to begin with? Now I can't even set foot outside this neighborhood?" Harry nearly shouted, fists clenched.
"I know, Harry, and I'm sorry. Dumbledore just doesn't think its safe..."
"And safety's obviously more important than freedom, yes, don't worry. I've heard it all before," finished Harry, with a scowl.
Tonks flinched, and didn't seem to know how to reply. Harry noticed her silence and immediately regretted being so harsh with her. After all, if anyone was to blame for his predicament, it was Harry himself. And Dumbledore.
At the moment, Harry wasn't sure how to feel toward the Headmaster. He wanted to be able to forgive the man for ignoring him the previous year and for keeping important information from him, but at the same time he felt betrayed. After all, Harry had put complete faith in the Headmaster and had been more open with him than almost any other person in his life on several occasions. Now Harry felt foolish for blindly trusting the man. The whole time Dumbledore had been keeping secrets concerning his own life from him.
Harry sighed. "I'm sorry Tonks; I shouldn't have yelled. I know it's not your fault. Professor Dumbledore didn't happen to give you an exact reason as to why I can't leave, did he?"
Tonks just shook her head sheepishly.
"Didn't think so," mumbled Harry, glaring off into the distance.
"Harry, he's doing the best he can. The poor man's been running himself ragged trying to lead the Order and keep up with his duties as Headmaster at the same time. Plus, having to work with Fudge now is taking its toll as well. Dumbledore has to guide the silly prat through every step of putting the ministry on alert and preparing for war."
Harry, still slightly angry, couldn't bring himself to feel sorry for Fudge or Dumbledore. He decided a change of subject was necessary. "How is Professor Lupin, Tonks?"
It was Tonks' turn to sigh. "I suppose he's alright. He and Albus had a little disagreement on something—I'm not sure what—but I haven't seen him around Headquarters for a few days. It's been hard for him; between losing Sirius and worrying about you, he's got quite a bit on his plate at the moment. By the way, he's not your professor anymore in case you haven't noticed. You can call him Remus."
Harry felt his face heat slightly at the mention of Remus being worried for him. He didn't deserve the man's concern; he had almost single-handedly wiped out every friend he had. His embarrassment was soon replaced with confusion, though. What would cause his former professor to argue with Dumbledore?
Before he could continue that train of thought, Tonks spoke up again. "Well, I've got to be off soon. Auror business and all," she rolled her eyes. "Mundungus will be on guard duty tonight, so if you hear any loud noises or cursing coming from out of nowhere, don't be alarmed. I'll see you soon; in the meantime, take care of yourself." Harry stood up to see her off, brushing dirt and grass off his pants.
"Oh! Before I forget..." She fumbled in her robes and her hands came out holding a stoppered bottle. "I managed to glean some Dreamless Sleep potion off Madam Pompfrey. Don't take it more than two days in a row, and you'll need another two days in between doses. Sorry, it's the best I could do," she smiled apologetically as she handed over the bottle.
"No, this is great! Thank you," Harry replied, wide-eyed and grateful for her thoughtfulness and subtlety. It would be wonderful to escape the nightmares, even if only for a few days a week. The summer was beginning to look a little less bleak.
After a brief hug and a wave goodbye, Tonks began the long walk back to the edge of the wards surrounding Number 4 Privet Drive.