Harry Potter and Love's Shadow
Chapter 1: The Kidnapping
The gray, monotonous sky reflected Harry's mood. He stood at his window, staring at the overcast heavens. These were what the days consisted of now. His dreams were haunted with the cold, shadowy form of Cedric Diggory, lying upon the grass, face down. The ashen, white face of Voldemort sneering at him from above swirled in Harry's wretched reveries. They just wouldn't fade.
Harry sighed as a knocked sounded from his bedroom door. The horse-face of Aunt Petunia poked its head through the cracked and glowered at him with flared nostrils and a wrinkled nose.
"I finished dinner. Come get some if you want," She snapped simply. Harry nodded at her, but she had already closed the door with a click. He let out a breath through his nostrils and he began to push himself off of the windowsill, but a sight outside stopped him. There was a young man standing on the sidewalk, right outside the Dursley's house. From what Harry could make out in the dim light, the man was wearing a large, heavy leather trench coat. It swayed back and forth, as though irritated by the wind, but as Harry checked by darting his eyes over to the treetops, there was none. Harry returned his gaze to the man, their eyes meeting with Harry's intrigued, confused ones, and the man's narrowed, angry ones. Sudden, searing pained ripped through his head and he was thrown back from the window to the soft carpet from some unknown force. As soon as eye contact was broken, the pain subsided. Harry rolled back on to his bottom and half-crawled and half-stumbled back to the window, hefting himself up with one arm on the windowsill. The young man was gone.
Harry couldn't stop himself from shaking. Was that Lord Voldemort? Had he actually found out where he lived during the summer? Was he walking up the steps to the front door, at this moment, ready to end his existence with a single wandstroke?
…No. Though his scar only pained him when Voldemort was near, he had a gut feeling that that young man was not Lord Voldemort. In fact, he felt some odd familiarity with the man. How so, he didn't know, for he had never seen the man before in his life. Then why did he feel he knew him from somewhere? Relief suddenly washed over him as Hedwig tapped at the window in front of his face, and he lifted the glass to let her in. She deposited a dead mouse to his feet and flew to her cage. She hooted in a soothing way. Harry smiled and picked up the dead mouse by the tail and dropped it into the brass cage.
"You can have that for dinner. I've got to go get mine now," He said in a light note, laughter returning to his heart. Just knowing that he still had the connections to the world in which he loved… that was all he needed to wash away the pain clouded in his mind.
The atmosphere at the dinning table was oddly quiet. True, the Dursleys never really held a complete conversation with him in the room (either that or they just discussed with themselves as though he didn't exist anymore), but they seemed oddly attentive today. Uncle Vernon cleared his large, thick throat.
"You've got a letter… boy," He muttered, thrusting the offending piece of paper under Harry's nose. Harry was going to ask who in the world would send him of all people a letter, when a small hoot and a rush of wings sounded from the ceiling and followed until out the window. The boy inwardly smiled. He took the letter and began opening it when Uncle Vernon yelled,
"DON'T… er… NO OPENING THAT… RUBBISH AT THE TABLE!"
Harry took no time in scurrying out of the chair and up to his room. He didn't care that he wouldn't get dinner tonight. He ripped apart the wax seal and read the letter with growing happiness.
Greeting Mr. Harry Potter,
We are glad to have you coming to another year of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! Although classes will not start for another month or so, we are making sure of all of the students going as a safety precaution. Please reply as soon as possible with the owl that carried the letter to you.
Have a great rest of the summer!
Mr. Harold Scultz
Department of Safety and Precautions
Harry took another moment to read the letter over again, in case he'd been mistaken. Hogwarts has never done this before. Safety Precaution? Of what? Voldemort? Half of the student body didn't even know he was back! And how come he's never heard of this "Department of Safety and Precautions either?
Harry shrugged off the doubt, assuming he didn't know enough about the Ministry to get suspicious of it (although Cornelius Fudge wasn't doing too well in that category) and walked over to the window. He lifted it. The small owl he saw before returned and stuck out its leg impatiently.
"Oh-oh… sorry," Harry muttered to it, quickly writing a lame response and tying it to the owl's leg. It hooted angrily at him.
"Oh you can't be serious!" Harry exclaimed, rolling his eyes. Since when did Hogwarts start charging people for letters?! He huffed at the owl's behavior, but dropped a few Knuts into the bag around its leg anyway. It hooted expectantly at him again.
"Oh get going already!" Harry shouted at it, waving it out the window. Hedwig gave him an incredulous look.
"Sorry," He muttered to her, patting her soft head. Hedwig looked at him warily, but seemed to accept the answer anyway.
Nothing happened until two days later. It was a few hours after lunch, and the Dursleys were going out to supply themselves for a party the next day. Harry was supposedly shut up in his room, still not trusted to "run amok" inside of the house. Although the Dursleys still had the lock on his door, Fred and George had taught him how to unlock the door with either a safety pin of a paperclip, "the muggle way."
Harry was now out in the yard, knowing his relatives would be gone for at least a few hours. He was watching Hedwig hunt mice in the garden, not wanting the sunny day to go to waste. He lounged back on the grass, smiling as a small squeak sounded from behind the bushes.
"Don't eat too much, or else you'll spoil your dinner," Harry laughed. Only silence answered him. He opened his eyes and sat up.
"Hedwig?" He asked to the back yard, looking around. The sun twinkled overhead and nothing looked out of the ordinary, but Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He jumped up and went around to look at the bushes when he heard a loud THUNK behind him. He whipped around and stared at the ground he was just laying on a moment before. A large depression was there with all of the grass turned black. He stepped towards it when the THUNK sound came from behind him again. This time, however, he turned to see the same thing had happened to where he had just been standing, the ground now steaming. There was a tingle in the air and Harry knew just then.
Someone was casting spells at him.
Harry dove to the sliding glass door and got inside the house just before another depression appeared behind him. He could feel the ground disappear underneath his feet. His heartbeat sounded terribly loud in his ears, until he heard the whisper.
"Harry… Potter… is… here!" It was a twisted, unearthly voice that sounded harsh and raspy. Harry knew that this voice meant no good. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing straight up, and his scar was throbbing in dull pain.
'Wand… I need… my wand!' Harry suddenly thought, and dashed to the cupboard under the stairs. He quickly tried picking the lock, while seeing dark figures swoosh past the glass on the windows. There were voices outside now, some laughing, and soft footsteps. Harry tried harder at the lock, and happened to break the pin inside of it.
"DAMN IT ALL!" He shouted just as there was a soft tap on the door. He stared in horror as the door knob rattled, but held up. He looked around for something to bash the lock on the cupboard door in. There was really nothing he could use that was strong enough… until he came across Dudley's old cricket bat. It wasn't much, but it was the sturdiest thing to use that he had seen in the room. He ran to the place on the floor where it was haphazardly placed. The door knob rattled again, this time, much louder. The whole door began to shake in its hinges. Harry's heart was pounding so fast that he was afraid it might stop. He flew back to the door and brought the bat down upon the lock as sickening pops and springs sounded from the doorknob. The intruders were now turning the doorknob the wrong way. Harry paled as he saw the knob fall to the floor and the door begin to open.
Phillip Chorzi gave his partner a toothy leer as the he pushed the door open.
"I told you I could do it," Chorzi grinned. His partner rolled his eyes.
"Show off if I've ever known one," Chorzi's partner, Richard Kcrin muttered while shoving past the brown-haired, brown-eyed man. The two met the sight of a lock swinging back and forth on the hook, with a pile of wood splinters beneath it. Kcrin raised his eyebrow at the odd scene.
"What the hell was that kid doin'?!" Chorzi laughed, banging past Kcrin and into the room. Kcrin mumbled as he scratched his silvery-white hair. His black eyes narrowed at his partner, and then scrutinized the room he was in. A small, impish-like creature with bulging eyes, no hair and long, claw-like fingers crawled up onto Kcrin's shoulder and began to whine and squeak. Kcrin lifted a large hand and began to scratch the creature underneath its chin, as though he had done this many times before, and had no need to look at the thing as he… gave it affectionate attention. Its wide, milky blue eyes darted around sporadically as it panted and squawked. Kcrin sighed happily, as though this thing were taking away his pain.
"Get Meikle over here. There're some more splinters over this way. I think he tried breaking down that door over there. It must lead into the basement or something. But… oh whatever, just get your ass over here," Chorzi called from the kitchen. Kcrin began to walk into the hall to where the kitchen was, but Meikle began to growl and squeak back at the living room. Kcrin stopped and turned around, and the creature calmed down a little.
"Hey Chrozi, I think Meikle thinks he's still in the living room," Kcrin called back, seeing some sort of movement over there, by the fireplace…
"GET YOUR ASS IN HERE YOU LAZY GOODFORNOTHIN'!" Chorzi roared, grabbing the back of Kcrin's robe and hauling him into the hall. The impish creature screeched and screamed as it jumped off of Kcrin's shoulder and bounded into the living room.
"Harry… Potter… is… HERE!" It croaked out in an unearthly, raspy voice.
Thank God the Dursleys still hadn't repaired the original fireplace since Mr. Weasley dropped in.
Harry's heart was pounding so loud he was afraid the men would hear it. He was sitting in the old fireplace, hidden behind the fake one. He saw them enter, and talk for a bit. That one with the silver hair had that creepy creature on his shoulder. Harry got shivers just from looking at the animal. Something told him it was bad news.
And now that… that thing was crawling over this way!
Harry swallowed and scooted around so he could see the hall. If only he could make it to the cupboard without being heard, he could get his wand. But that animal was still crawling towards him, squawking and growling and sniffing. 'Wait… sniffing?'
Harry smiled in glee. 'Maybe… just maybe… that thing's blind!' He thought, scooting around again so he could slip out the other side and make his way to the cupboard. He was just about to, when he heard voices coming back into the living room. He cursed and threw himself back into the open fireplace, hitting his head in the process. Even worse, was that the imp thing had now jumped into the chimney with him. It began to scream, and Harry cursed again.
"Hey! Hey, that's Meikle!" He heard the one with silvery-white hair shout. The young wizard did the only thing he could think of: shove his hand over the thing's mouth. Though, that wasn't the best of ideas. The imp thing—Meikle, was it?—bit down upon the flesh in Harry's palm, drawing blood and stinging it beyond belief. However, Harry refused to scream aloud as the two evil men rushed upstairs, to apparently where they thought he was hiding.
As soon as they were upstairs, Harry shot out of the fireplace and dashed to the cupboard, letting out a small squeak of pain from Meikle, still latched onto his hand. He felt as though all the skin in his palm was coming off. He bet that thing had bitten him down to the bone. Harry did the only thing his pain-induced mind could think of: get rid of the pain. And that happened to include bashing this small creature against the lock multiple times. However, the thing didn't even seem phased by it, as its other limbs grasped onto Harry's arms and began to scratch and cut him. He couldn't help but yelp out in pain.
That small cry brought Kcrin and Chorzi stomping back down the stairs, Chorzi comically tripping over his own feet in the frenzy, throwing himself forward, plummeting into Kcrin, bringing them both down the stairs. They landed in a small heap at the bottom. Harry didn't notice, as he now knew he absolutely needed his wand right now, and began kicking at the lock.
Kcrin was the first to recover, and launched himself at the boy. He knocked Harry over sideways, kicking the cupboard door in the process, bashing it in. Harry saw stars, from hitting his head on a small side table near the hallway doorway, and swung blindly at his attacker. The imp screeched and squealed in pain as being used as a bludgeon against its own owner. It let go of Harry's bloodied hand, the momentum of one of Harry's swings chucking it across the room and hitting Chorzi in the head, whom had recently stood up. He fell back down to his knees when the small flying imp crashed into his head.
"Chorzi! I could use some help here!" Kcrin shouted, trying to contain the thrashing youth. Harry's hand was throbbing painfully now, blood flowing freely from the bite, which was turning a slight blue. He looked over Kcrin's shoulder and saw that his trunk had fallen out of the cupboard. He thrashed more violently, getting the upper hand, as Kcrin tried pulling him back in a flimsy choke-hold, by shoving his weight backward from his hip, and kicking backwards at the man's shin. The white-haired man let go, calling out in pain as Harry shoved himself off of him, and nearly threw himself to his trunk. He snapped open the latch, and began thrusting things aside until he grasped onto a slim wooden object.
Harry spun around and shouted, "EXPELLIARMUS!" A bright red flash swept through his eyes and he heard a shout. He would have sighed in relief until he felt cold hands grip him around the throat.
"You… stinking… little… bastard!" The brown-haired man hissed into Harry's face. His grip tightened on Harry's throat, and pulled him out of the cupboard. Harry gasped. Kcrin was lying on the floor, shaking his head, holding onto the limp form of Meikle. Kcrin's sleeve had somehow been ripped, and the Dark Mark shown brightly on his skin. Harry's wild, frightened eyes darted from over to Kcrin, to back to his captor. Chorzi lifted Harry off the ground easily, much taller than the young boy. Harry began to choke and writhe, trying to get some form of air.
"And now, my dear boy, you are coming with us… quietly," Chorzi whispered evilly into Harry's ear, bringing the boy close to his face. Harry kicked and thrashed about, but Chorzi's grip tightened until he could feel the man's long fingernails dig into his skin. The boy resisted the urge to let his tongue fall out of his mouth.
"Oh yes… very quietly…" Kcrin answered, giving Harry a toothy grin and taking his wand out of his pocket. He lifted it high, and Harry stared, wide-eyed, his pulse beating madly. Chorzi's hold slackened, and Harry dropped to the floor, gasping and wheezing for air, spit and bile dripping out from his mouth uncontrollably. Harry slid his gaze over to Kcrin and a smiling Chorzi with his arms crossed across his chest, as Kcrin brought his wand down in a swoosh.
Knocousa… was the last word Harry heard before drifting off into blissful darkness.
AN: Ahh… suspenseful, eh? Well, this is about the 7th or 8th version of my first Harry Potter story. Thanks for reading, and reviews would be nice! :D
