Disclaimer: The Harry Potter world, and all that is in it, belongs to J.K. Rowling. She just lets the rest of us borrow it to use as our inspiration, for that I am eternally grateful.
A/N: I wasn't sure if I should start posting this story yet because I haven't finished writing it, however I found I need the support and feedback to keep me motivated to finish. Thanks to Vodo and Ex for the great beta work, without you two this story may have been unreadable.
Chapter One
Harry Potter slowly turned his head to look at the small clock near his bed. Six thirty in the morning. He had been awake for three hours now trying to push back the memories of his godfather that had invaded his dreams. It had been the same dream that had awakened him numerous nights before. However, it didn't seem to matter if he was sleeping or if he was awake. He could clearly see in his minds eye, the look of surprise on Sirius's face as he slowly fell through the veil. The yells of victory from the woman who sent him there still sounded in his ears. He clutched his head in his hand and silently screamed at his own mind. STOP! I can't bring him back! I can't relive that every day! Just stop making me remember him like that! Harry climbed off his bed searching for a distraction before his mind followed its usual path of thought. He always seemed to end up focusing on the prophecy, the one that revealed his fate as murderer or the murdered. This morning, however, he would be spared.
He had barely walked the length of his tiny bedroom when his owl, Hedwig, swept through the open window. Harry gratefully untied the letter she had brought him, and gave her some treats as she settled in her cage. He hadn't even taken a step before he had the letter opened. It was from Ron.
Harry,
No word on when you can come here yet, and mum says if I don't stop bugging her about it you can't come at all. She doesn't really mean it though. How are those Muggles treating you? They best not be giving you a hard time. Hermione is still in Spain with her parents. But that doesn't seem to stop her from writing me constantly to ask me if I have my OWL results yet and nagging me to get my homework done before the holiday ends. Summer just started two weeks ago, why would I be thinking about homework already? I swear she never gives it a rest. She'll be here the last week before next term starts and I'll be surprised if she doesn't drive us both mad in that time. I'm sure you will be out here before then.
Ron
Oh yeah, if I don't remember to tell you Ginny says hi, I'll never hear the end of it.
Just then he heard his aunt and uncle's alarm clock start to buzz. Harry reread the letter and then tossed it on his desk, deciding to write back later. He might as well get up and eat breakfast since he obviously wouldn't be going back to sleep. As he was dressing he thought about Ron's complaints about Hermoine. They had both been Harry's best friends for the last five years, and had fancied each other nearly as long. Perhaps this year would be the year they stopped fighting and started dating. Harry snorted at the thought. Even though Harry, and most of the people in their house at school, could see how much they liked each other, they were both just too stubborn to notice. As his thoughts wandered off, thinking of all the ridiculous fights those two had, Harry sighed, the letter had helped. He made his way downstairs.
"Morning, Aunt Petunia," Harry greeted as he opened the door. He smirked slightly when he saw the woman jump at the sound of his voice.
"Why are you up so early?" she questioned carefully controlling her tone, but unable to hide the resentment that shone in her eyes.
Harry shrugged as his aunt, who pointed at the eggs she was frying and asked, "Do you want some of this or cereal?"
"Cereal is fine," he replied as he pulled a bowl from the cupboard. He settled himself down at the table to eat as his Uncle Vernon entered the room.
"Petunia, dear, I have a meeting at four so I won't be able to collect the dry cleaning today." He stated as he kissed his wife good morning. He suspiciously glanced at Harry, and nodded a greeting, but didn't comment on his early rise.
"I can pick them up on my way home from the market, so don't worry dear." Petunia replied.
Harry's thoughts wandered back to Ron's question about his aunt, uncle, and cousin, the muggles. They really had treated Harry better this year, but that was only because they had been threatened if they didn't, a large group of wizards would show up at their doorstep expecting answers. So they had pretty much left him alone for the last two weeks, and been very polite when they had to speak with him. However Harry found that even without their open hostility, he was still miserable here. You couldn't threaten someone into caring. Harry quickly finished his cereal and headed back upstairs; he was still somewhat unsettled by their civil behavior towards him.
After writing a reply to Ron reassuring him that he was being treated quite well, he decided to start on the large mass of homework he had been given for over the holiday. He had finished his essay for History Of Magic and was halfway through his Transfiguration homework when his stomach interrupted him. Glancing at his clock, Harry notice that it was already after noon. He fixed himself a sandwich and was headed back to his room when his aunt stopped him.
"Dudley and I are going to be running some errands for a few hours," she informed him, "I will not lock you in your room, however, if anything in my house is destroyed or out of place when we get back, you can be assured that next time I won't be so generous."
"Yes ma'am," Harry replied. He nearly skipped up the stairs. A few hours without the Dursleys, and free reign of the house! They hadn't allowed him to do this since . . . well, he had never even been allowed to dream of this.
As the Dursley's car pulled out of the drive Harry bounded down the stairs wondering what to do first. After a few moments deliberation he settled himself in his uncle's chair, turned on the television, and started flipping through channels. After about a half hour of this, he started wondering why muggles found this so interesting. He then went exploring throughout the house, reading the newspaper, munching on snacks that only Dudley was allowed to eat, and even trying out Dudley's computer. He sighed when he realized that it was nearly four o'clock and his aunt and cousin had been gone for almost three hours. They would surely be arriving home soon. Harry did a quick sweep of the house to be sure he hadn't left anything out of place and headed up to his room. He had only just settled down on his bed when he heard his aunt's voice.
"Harry, come down here and help unload the groceries. . .Please," she yelled in her waspish voice, choking on the last word.
He trudged down the stairs as she was headed back out the door, pausing at the bottom step to let Dudley pass with his arms full of bags. Then he heard his aunt scream from outside and a loud crash from beside him as Dudley dropped all he had been carrying. Hurrying to the door, Harry was faced with a scene he could never have imagined. There in the driveway amidst flashes of red and green was his aunt, struggling from the grasp of two men who were covered from head to toe in robes and hoods. Death Eaters. A few more were shooting spells wildly just to the right of the front door. And something or someone seemed to be sending spells back. He hastily pulled his wand from his waistband and knocked into Dudley as they both tried to pass through the door at once.
"NO!" screeched Petunia, shaking off one of the death eaters that had hold of her arm. "Stay in the house! They can't touch you there."
Dudley froze just at the threshold but Harry continued down the path, sending stunning spells as he went. The Death Eaters turned to him as his Aunt screamed again.
"Get back inside!" She had a look of terror on her face as she reached her free arm toward him, as if trying to push him back.
Harry then had the most peculiar sensation as he was lifted off of his feet and thrown backward through the still opened front door. He landed in a heap on the floor with Dudley sprawled beside him looking bewildered. He scrambled to his feet intending to head back out to the fight when the front door slammed in his face and locked itself. Harry struggled with the lock but it would not budge. Alohamora didn't work either. He ran to the parlor window in time to see a few more moments of struggle, then the Death Eaters Disapparated, taking his aunt with them.
"NO!" screamed Harry his voice full of fear, fists pounding on the window.
He ran back to the door and was surprised when it opened easily. As he sprinted out into the front yard wildly searching, he saw it. Part of a shoe was lying on the grass to the right of the front walk. He was approaching it, wand drawn, when he realized what it was. He reached out his hand and groped at the air near where the partial shoe lay. Feeling the material he gave a sharp tug and an invisibility cloak pulled away. He instantly dropped the cloak and gasped at the sight of Bill Weasley, his guard, lying motionless below him.
"Please don't be dead," Harry whispered as he half carried, half dragged the limp body back into the house. "Dudley, help me," he said as struggled through the door.
Dudley, however, was in no state to help anyone. He sat on the floor curled in the fetal position rocking back and forth. His eyes, the size of saucers stared blankly ahead.
Harry continued down the hall and pulled Ron's brother's limp body on the couch in the living room, quickly checking for a pulse. He was mildly relieved when he found one.
"Think," he muttered to himself.
He didn't know what to do. He started rambling off every counter curse he could think of, silently praying one of them would work. Relief washed over him as the unconscious man's eyelids fluttered. Bill jolted to his feet.
"Harry, are you hurt?" Bill asked, as he faltered slightly and tipped back onto the couch.
"I'm fine, but they took my aunt!" Harry hurriedly explained, "You've got to go for help!"
"Where is my wand," asked Bill. Understanding the blank look on Harry's face, he rose back to his feet and headed for the door. "Harry, promise me, no matter what, you will stay inside this house."
Harry nodded from the doorway as Bill collected his wand and cloak from the grass, and with a quiet pop was gone. He stared for a moment at the now silent driveway in disbelief. Then turning he slowly closed the door, not knowing what to do next. His eyes fell upon his cousin.
Kneeling down in front of him he quietly spoke, "Dudley, hey, Big D, can you hear me?"
The large boy was still huddled on the floor, eyes staring at an unseen place, as he continued to rock. Harry spent a few minutes futilely trying to get some kind of response from his cousin when suddenly the front door sprang open. Harry quickly jumped to his feet, expecting to be hit with a curse at any moment, however he wasn't the least bit relieved that he recognized the figure. His uncle was now standing in the doorway, looking furious.
"What in the bloody hell is going on here? Why was the car left, doors standing wide open with groceries in the trunk, left to spoil!" Vernon Dursley sputtered. Then noticing his son huddled on the floor, his jaw dropped and he shakily yelled, "Petunia?!?" When he received no answer, he turned to Harry, who was standing there staring at him, white faced and mouth opened. In one fluid motion Harry's uncle had him by the throat and pinned to the wall. "What have you done to my family?" he seethed, his face now contorted with fury.
"I . . . I didn't. . ." Harry stuttered gasping for air.
"Release him at once, Dursley," came a familiar voice from behind his uncle.
"And who in the bloody hell do you think you are, just barging into my house?" Vernon bellowed, tightening his grip around Harry's throat effectively cutting off all remaining airflow.
"Albus Dumbledore," he calmly replied, "Now release Harry, for I do not wish to harm you."
As darkness crept around the edges of his vision, Harry looked hopefully at his uncle's face, seeing the conflict in his eyes, as he glared back. Harry was struggling at the edge of consciousness when he heard his uncle yelp in pain. He was vaguely aware of falling to the floor as oblivion overtook him.