1Harry Potter 6

Chapter 1: Back Again.

Harry couldn't stop himself from smiling all the way home. With every glance at uncle Vernon his smile grew wider and wider. Had he really just seen and heard the things that he had? Yes, he had to tell himself several times that it had actually happened. His friends, his only friends had met him at the train and threatened Uncle Vernon. Despite his obvious loathing of the magical world and all things associated with magic, and pretending for the past 4 years that it didn't exist, Uncle Vernon could not pretend that this scene was not happening. He of course drove toward Privet Drive like nothing at all had transpired and he was enjoying a nice afternoon drive in the car all alone. Only Uncle Vernon could have a run in with members of the order of Phoenix and act like he had just sat through a brief encounter with the Prime Minister.

They pulled into the drive way and Harry quickly got his trunk and Hedwig out of the car and made his way up to his room. It was an odd feeling but he was actually happy to be stepping into his room. As he closed the door behind him, he tried to keep himself from wishing the thought that had been nagging at him for days. He felt as thought he couldn't bring himself to wish it knowing in this heart that it wouldn't come true. "I..." He sighed softly to himself and sat down at the edge of his bed. It had been fine in the car with Uncle Vernon, laughing to himself at the fact that someone had finally told him off and that he Harry had had the pleasure of witnessing it. The memory was now fleeting and couldn't sustain pleasant emotions anymore. He tried to bring it back but laughing at it one more time. He just couldn't do it, it was an empty laugh and as quickly as he had done it, he regretted it. The laugh however, startled Hedwig who motioned to Harry to let her out of her cage. "Sorry Hedwig," Harry said. "Almost forgot you were here." He walked lifelessly across the room, bent down and freed his owl from her cage. She looked up at him as if to say. "Don't be sad Harry, it'll be ok, I promise." And instead of feeling better it only made things worst.

"I wish it were last summer." Harry finally said out loud. "I wish that I could do it all over again. I'd spend the summer awaiting word from Dumbledore and the other and not been so hasty to know what was going on and to get back to the wizarding world." He stopped for a moment and thought of the events of that summer. It took him a while before he could remember all he had done and all that had happened, it all seems ages ago. "Dementors!" He cried. "They would have still come after me, wouldn't they?" He thought. It was no use, no matter how much he wished that he could turn back the clock, to relive the days and hours before it happened, he knew that he just couldn't.

For the first time since finding out that he was a wizard, Harry began to wish he wasn't. It was a feeling that he had tried to suppress since the minute he realized that he wasn't coming back. He still couldn't bring himself to say his name. Having never known his parents Harry never felt bitter toward them for leaving him or for getting killed. He never felt like he could not be apart of their world without them in it. On the contrary he quite loved it; not the fact that they were dead, but that he was getting to know them in a way that he knew he never would if they had been around. He loved them as parents but also as friends, if that makes any sense. Most of the time he was with Hagrid or anyone who knew his parents, he felt like he was catching up with old friend.

This time however, things were just not the same. Harry couldn't help feeling like this was some cruel trick. That someone had purposely given him someone to love, who truly loved him in returned and they went and took him away. He could feel slow anger rising inside him, along with a mingled hatred. Hatred of magic, of his useless wand and empty spells and meaningless books that could do him no good. What good was magic if it couldn't save the people who were good and who tried to help others. What good was learning any of it if he couldn't save the person who mattered most to him in this world. Harry rose of his bed and paced the floor trying hard to control the rage that was engulfing his entire body.

The sounds of laughter came blearing into his room from down stairs, and it was that more that anything that drove Harry over the edge. He shook with furry as he listened to the loud grunts of his cousin Dudley, the high pitched chortles or Aunt Petunia and the boisterous barking of Uncle Vernon. It was the sound of happiness that was driving Harry mad. It had suddenly hit him that his days of being this happy were gone forever. He would never hear him laugh again; see that gradual twinkle that came into his eyes as he went from a polite chuckle to a full gut rolling howl. He had loved to watch his Godfather laugh, it always reminded him of the picture he had of his parents wedding. Harry knew that the Dursleys had no idea what had happened to him, or the torment that he was going through right now. It was knowing that they wouldn't care even if they knew that sent shots of rage into Harry's already tightening stomach. "Oh what's one dead wizard, a good for nothing low life criminal wizard too!" He could hear Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon saying harshly. He would not give them that satisfaction of speaking about Siri...., he almost thought his name.

"I have to leave," Harry thought to himself, "go somewhere anywhere." He tore over to his trunk and ripped it open. He searched inside for his broom, with the thought of flying off and never coming back. As he closed his hand around his firebolt and lifted it up out of the trunk, he was quickly transported back two years ago when he had first unwrapped it. In spite of himself he smile broadly as he thought of how little he was then, how lucky he was then. He suddenly didn't know what to do, he felt the now familiar burning in the back of his eyes and the stinging in his throat and knew what was about to happen. He fought it back, and when that didn't seem to be working, he wiledl it back, then pleaded it back and finally begged it to go away. His begging intensified as he heard footsteps and voices on their way upstairs. "Oh sod off!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, making a last resort to redirect his emotions. Anger he could deal with, the other thing he was yet to know how to cope with.

It was this anger that made him fling his precious firebolt across the room. Before he knew what he was doing he was throwing it all out the window and across his room. "Useless, Useless, Useless," he kept shouting as he threw quills, spell book, ink, parchment and his cauldron out the window. "What the devil are you up to boy?" Bellowed Uncle Vernon as he sprang into Harry's room. "Mad!" He shouted, "have you gone mad, potter, and stop this madness at once." Harry paused for a moment and looked at him defiantly, "Or what?" Uncle Vernon looked at him as if he had just spat at him or worst started to sprout wings. "I won't have this, madness in my house. This is not a place for nutters Potter, stop it at once."

"Vernon, make him stop," said Aunt Petunia rushing to his side. "What are the neighbors going to think, I won't have this." Harry looked from his Aunt to his Uncle and for the first time in all his life, he hated them. He had thought that he hated them before, even said it out loud, but today he actually felt and meant it. He looked at them with the expression of disgust they had always reserved for him, and wanted to harm them. He wanted to do to them every bad thing they had every done to him since the first day he stepped foot in their house. He stood there staring at them and the stinging came back. He had to do something, anything to keep himself from losing it. There was just no way that he was going to cry in front of them. He had never given them this satisfaction in all the times they tortured him and he most certainly was not going to do so right now.

Without warning he felt it coming and tried to make for the door, but he was too slow. Uncle Vernon had bet him to it, shutting the door and asking for an explanation to his behavior. "What the devil has gotten into you boy," yelled his Uncle, "What's the meaning for all this nonsense." Uncle Vernon was taking advantage of the fact that Harry was silent and his head was bent, taking that to mean that he was back in control, he continued yelling. "Well boy, hurry up and...., Uncle Vernon stopped mid sentence as Harry raised his head and he realized that tears were streaming down his face.