Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its inherent information. It belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Normal font is for narration.

Bold font is for Harry's Thoughts.

Italicized font is for flashbacks, letters, and emphasis.

Harry Potter and the Vicissitudes of Life

It was the afternoon on the summer solstice and it seemed as if nature was ready for a change, be it the lingering spring storm clouds of Britain or the soon to come hottest days of the year. So like the wavering, changing seasons, a certain teenager with the world on his shoulders, was in for an apocalyptical change. This certain boy, who wondered whether he would get a break as great Atlas did when Hercules came about, was sitting in a car dreading his trip home. How is it that this certain young adult would fear a trip home? Isn't the phrase "the home is where the heart is" one that all families and people cherish? As it stood, this skinny, seemingly drained and dazed teenager was always the exception, and being called Harry James Potter, was just the tip of the iceberg. Since his birth, he was always the exception. Born from a couple that resembled the perfect pair, he had been attacked by the greatest dark wizard of all time, and defeated him while barely a year old. From then, he was abused for a straight ten years and was thrust into a society with no sense of what he had lived through, yet he had lived retaining the title, "the boy-who-lived." Now he went to a special Wizarding school, Hogwarts, where each year something more special and extravagant would happen to him. Still, in the air, one could feel that this year would be different, while his thoughts, fresh on his mind drifted to that morning…

Flashback

"'Bye, then, Potter," said Moody, grasping Harry's shoulder for a moment with a gnarled hand.

"Take care, Harry," said Lupin quietly. "Keep in touch."

"Harry, we'll have you away from there was soon as we can," Mrs. Weasley whispered, hugging him again.

"We'll see you soon, mate," said Ron anxiously, shaking Harry's hand.

"Really soon, Harry," said Hermione earnestly. "We promise."

End Flashback(Page 870 of Ootp)

Soon, really soon, does that mean I'll be able to leave this wretched place called home? That ignorant Dumbledore, who was he to think he knew how it felt to be me. What right did he have, to keep anything from me? This pain -- no one knows how it feels, except maybe Sirius… in Azkaban, for twelve years. The only one who would understand, who could always understand is dead; because of me. Oh, how I remember him, always carefree, the joy in his eyes when he was riding away on Buckbeak. The blazing passion he showed when I was reprimanded for visiting him in Hogsmeade, while fully knowing that he was glad to see me. The suave and insouciant manner in battle he oozed reminiscent of his glory days at Hogwarts, when he fought against his own cousin, her. All this gone, just a memory, soon to be pushed with all my other horrific and tragic memories.

"GET OUT OF THE CAR BOY!" Uncle Vernon yelled, waking up Harry from his daydream.

"Hurry up and get your STUFF into the kitchen. We need to have a little chat about what those freaks said," said Uncle Vernon in a slightly calmer manner as he was still subject to the eavesdropping neighbors of Privet Drive.

Harry struggling with his trunk and his cage, while getting a comforting hoot from Hedwig, reached the Kitchen wondering what would happen now, little chat? As if.

Harry quietly put his trunk, cage, and broomstick into a nook of the kitchen, hoping that if his aunt and uncle wouldn't be able to see it, they wouldn't be too angry. As Harry was contemplating whether to sit or stand, the door burst open, and Uncle Vernon, trying hard not to break the door frame, walked into the kitchen. Following his uncle was his Aunt Petunia, while Dudley, too large to fit through the kitchen door from the atrium, had to waddle through the dining room double doors.

"Sit down," ordered Uncle Vernon, as he, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley sat down around the table, thus effectively taking up 80 percent of the room in the kitchen. Uncle Vernon looked to Petunia for help, as his face was turning red, symbolizing either anger or confusion, both extremely likely options.

"We do not like those abnormal people threatening us, especially our precious Diddyums," said Aunt Petunia shakily, thoroughly remembering the grotesque face of Mad-Eye-Moody, as well as the shocking appearance of Tonks.

"However, we w..wo..would like to make a deal so that none of those FREAKS will ever set foot and dirty our carpet or home," mumbled Uncle Vernon forcefully.

Harry looked up from his downcast gaze, as he was utterly surprised at what his relatives were saying.

"There will be certain rules, BOY that you must follow while staying here for the summer." Uncle Vernon demanded, "Rule One: You will do whatever chores your Aunt asks of you while staying out of the way of both your Aunt and Dudley. Rule Two: You will be allowed to keep your freakish stuff in your room, but you better hope your owl will not make a single bit of noise during the night. Rule Three: During the day, once you have finished all your chores, you are allowed outside, but you will not in any way, get drunk, get killed, and get into any fights, everything that you do outside stays outside of this house. Rule Four: As much as it is against my wishes, your Aunt has graciously, and I mean extremely graciously decided that Dudley's old clothes will not be yours anymore and has bought for you new clothes and accessories. Think of this as a payment for all the chores and other things that you and I both have had to deal with."

Harry sat dumbfounded at this final proclamation not clearly listening to what else his uncle was saying. He heard his uncle's final roar, but did not comprehend it as he was frozen stiff in the kitchen chair. Had his relatives finally gone crazy from the overindulgence of greed, gluttony, and hate? Harry felt he had more freedom now than at any other time in his life. Harry numbly carried his stuff to his room and shook himself carefully taking in all this new information. He noticed that the Dursley's had renovated the upstairs, making it seem more like a hotel than an actual house. snort Flaunting their wealth, when more likely than not, no one would ever come upstairs. Yet, Harry found out that his room was also altered, new wallpaper, a cerulean blue that oozed tranquility, while finding a new desk, closet, and a beside shelf. Harry went into his closet and looked at his new clothes and accessories, expecting pink tights, and electric green shirts, making what he heard earlier a practical joke. Yet, this was a new year, a vital change was about to occur in Harry's life, and this was only the beginning as Harry found he liked his new clothes. Gone were the baggy pants and shirts that he was accustomed to wearing, and what took its place was very well its antithesis. Harry found he had new trainers, a new waterproof multifunctional watch, three pairs of jeans, two pairs of khakis, several colored turtlenecks, various short sleeve and long sleeve shirts, a set of exercise clothes, and last but not least a suit. While holding his new trainers he, promptly fainted.

"BOY GET DOWN HERE AND COOK DINNER!" roared Uncle Vernon, which promptly woke up Harry.

It was all a dream. I must have been hit on the head with a frying pan or something; it's happened before thought Harry. Harry then noticed the trainers still clutched in his hands and almost fainted again. Being through near death experiences doesn't prepare you for a shock like the one that Harry just experienced. Harry yelled to his Uncle that he would be down after he changed, and thus promptly took his clothes to the bathroom.

Wow, these clothes actually fit, how does Aunt Petunia even know my size? As Harry looked into the mirror he started noticing things, gradually taking in all that he needed to do. I'm like a stick, all skin and bones, no wonder I fainted earlier. No wonder Cho was crying for Cedric over me, I mean I'd be crying for someone else too. How am I supposed to fight Death Eaters if I look like I can be broken so easily? I have to do something.

Harry walked downstairs with his new clothes, trying to get used to clothes that were loose, not extremely baggy, but leaving enough room to grow in; hopefully he would grow. Harry then proceeded into the kitchen to start cooking parts of the dinner as Aunt Petunia cooked the main course. It was an awkward silent and mutual agreement between both of them, as Aunt Petunia really couldn't find anything to yell at Harry for, while Harry was still dazed at the amicable veneer on his aunt's face.

"Go fetch Dudley; he's practicing driving in his new car with your uncle," ordered Aunt Petunia.

Driving?! Dudley's driving? Oh yeah, he's turning sixteen. He'll probably come home drunk and crash his car. I wonder what car he drives anyways.

As Harry opened the front door, he almost burst out laughing right then and there. It was hard to stand up as Harry viewed the extraordinarily funny sight before his eyes. There, Dudley's car stood, a Mini-cooper that was fashionable of late in Britain, while Dudley, on the other hand who could pass for a Mini-cooper without wheels in size, was trying to get in or out of the car. It was hard to tell which as half of his body was stuck in the doorframe, while the other half made the car almost teeter over, as his leg and arm were trying to extricate themselves from the car. Uncle Vernon was trying his hardest to brace the car so that Dudley could climb out, yet this was extremely difficult as Dudley, if it was possible weighed more than twice of Uncle Vernon.

"Dinn…ner's… rea…dy!" yelled Harry between bits of heavy chuckling as he scrambled inside the door to avoid the heavy glare from his uncle.

OH WOW! I'm going to remember this until the day I die. Wheezing I haven't laughed that hard since the toffee incident. Whew! This is going to be a fun summer already if I have to see Dudley try to drive everyday. Drive… will I ever drive? Will I live to apparate?

With the sudden change of mindset, Harry gloomily sat down at the table, earning a surprising questioning look from his aunt. As Uncle Vernon and Dudley finally came into the kitchen, Harry had finished most of his dinner quickly, so he could wallow in self pity in the comforts of his room.

"BOY, tomorrow morning, your Aunt will give you a list of chores to do in the morning. If you finish by lunch, afterwards you are allowed to go outside of the house. Whatever you do, just be back by 5 so you can come and prepare for dinner. Don't be late; as I know for sure, your Aunt bought you a watch, very expensive mind you, so it should work for a long time," said Uncle Vernon between his fourth plate of the roast beef that Harry had helped cook.

Harry quickly agreed as he asked if he could be excused from the table. Harry ran up the stairs hoping that he received something from his friends that showed that Harry truly would be seeing them soon. Harry checked his room noticing that Hedwig was sleeping, while no other birds or letters could be found.

I wonder what happened, oh well I just saw them this morning. I guess I'm getting paranoid, I mean I'm not that lonely am I? I guess I might as well organize my room, as I have all this mess in my trunk and a perfectly clean and furnished room.

Harry began to organize his closet into two sections, one for his Wizarding robes and other clothes, while the second one to be viewed from his room would hold his normal clothes. After deciding that there was a lot more clothes than he had expected, Harry picked up all of Dudley's old clothes and brought them downstairs. When Harry came up after doing the laundry and depositing Dudley's old clothes in his old bedroom cupboard door, Harry realized he had gotten a letter delivered by an unusual looking bird that Harry had not seen before. It was a type of nighthawk, but he could not place what or why it would be delivering to him. Harry opened the letter and read to himself:

Dear Harry,

This letter comes from several members of the Order of the Phoenix and will ignite soon after you finish reading it. The hawk that delivered this is one of the Order's owls transfigured so as it would not fall into the wrong hands.

Hello Harry. This is Moony writing, how are you doing? That's a stupid question right? Harry rolls his eyes I'm not going to lecture you or try to comfort you even though I am what's left of the Marauders. But that is the point, as being the last one of the Marauders; the legacy falls to me to help in the new generation of pranking and having fun. You need to have fun more Harry because you cannot be bogged down with whatever made you so mad as to blow up Albus's office. Yes I visited and compliment you as to the damage you inflicted (I once did the same and I can say you clearly beat me, although I do think that Lily at one point even set fire to Dumbledore's beard). As I was saying, I would like to induct you into being a part of the Marauders and grant you junior membership, being the godson of one, the son of another, and a lifetime friend of mine. Well I wish you well and hope you can find an accurate nickname for yourself. Owl me if you need help in choosing a nickname (hint hint).

Wotcher Harry! Having fun with your relatives? I was watching you earlier on my shift and I must say that car dealerships should really look into who's buying what kind of car. wink! Don't let his death get you down Harry. He was my favorite cousin, and he wouldn't want you to be sad. Go enjoy your summer, have a few more laughs.

CONSTANT VIGILANCE POTTER! WHAT ARE YOU DOING READING A LETTER THAT MIGHT BE JINXED, CURSED, OR WORSE A PORTKEY! Well, as it's too late to check for any of that, how have your relatives been treating you? They better not be mistreating you or else they'll deal with me. You're going to get a surprise soon enough in the next few weeks, but that's all I can say. Remember to owl once every three days.

Well Harry, I was sorry that you had left on such bad terms, and I hope that you can forgive me for my mistakes. Yeah, right, you old codger, let's see what you have to say. Everyone makes mistakes as I'm sure you know, and I hope that I can make it up to you even though I know it will not occur right away. It might seem weird to see the "great" Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore apologize, but I have assumed too much of your life. For now, I wish to tell you that I will let you live your life by your own decisions and not assuming that by leaving you out of the loop you can live your life. I have requested from the Ministry that the underage sorcery decree be lifted on a selected few students, such as the ones that went with you to the Ministry. However, this is still in the process of discussion, but I have certain good news. Your Quidditch Ban has been lifted, as you have your Firebolt back, a very good broom if I say so myself, and Dolores Umbridge has been tried for an attempt at an Unforgivable as well as using a banned Blood Quill. On other important matters, the subject of Sirius's death, innocence, and financial matters will be discussed sooner or later. Also, the Ministry is conducting an investigation into the Department of Mysteries fiasco as Voldemort's return cannot be denied any longer as so many have seen him. While the minister is severely hampering our actions, we are still trying our best. This is all the information I have and I hope that this is the first step in trying to repair our relationship. Take care Harry.

The Order of the Phoenix

Harry's head was swimming with all the new information from Moody's hint of a surprise, Tonks's joke poking fun at Dudley, the initiation as a junior Maurader, and finally everything that Dumbledore had written.

I guess Dumbledore does deserve a second chance, but for 15 years, almost 16 now, I have been kept in the dark, abused, and neglected. A simple letter will not suffice. I guess I'm still mad at that idiotic old man, but I have to give him some credit, if I had been in a better mood I would have forgiven him. Still, I think my taste of freedom that the Dursley's gave me shows that I can get a lot more from them and the order. I guess I should reply like Moody said as the hawk trilled and out came phoenix song. Hello Fawkes.

Dear Order,

Thank you for your support and your information. I still haven't come to terms with the fact that "he" died, and I think I might need some more time. I don't know how long it will be, but it might be quick or slow. I am feeling fine and my relatives are not mistreating me in any way. I hope that the ministry inquiry goes well and although I haven't forgiven all of you yet, I will in the future. If you are willing to help me out, could you please send some books that I can study ranging from the NEWT courses for an Auror or those of Occlumency, Dueling, and Healing. I hope you can get the money from my vault. I will write in three days.

-Harry

With this written and sent through Fawkes, Harry lay down on his bed hoping that through this long and exhausting day, he might find some sort of dreamless sleep. Fate; however, had other plans that was destined for Harry that night.

Nightmare Sequence

Harry walks down the familiar dark and shrouded hallway in, yet he can't control himself as he approaches the room with the Veil. He slowly reaches the door and begins to open it, faint noise coming from the crack.

Harry saw Sirius duck Bellatrix's jet of red light: He was laughing at her. "Come on, you can do better than that!" he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room.

The second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest.

The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock.

"Sirius!!! NOO! You can't die! YOU CAN'T! You can't leave me here! Nooo!"

"Mwahahaha! Potter! You will never defeat me! All the people you love will die, like your mudblood mother! Who's next? Your werewolf friend of your fathers? You will never defeat me, heir of the great Salazaar Slytherin!" A fakelike Voldemort said.

"Aww… wee baby potter, grieving for the dead mutt that he called a godfather. He truly was a dog, too low to be a human. A shame to name of Black," said another fake Bellatrix.

"NOOOO! Sirius is more of a person than you will ever be!!!! Voldemort! You'll never win!"

Flashes of Remus being killed by the silver hand of Wormtail, Hermione cursed by Dolohov, Neville being tortured by Crucio, Ron, Luna, Ginny, Mrs. Weasley, Dumbledore, and the whole Order lying dead before the feet of Voldemort and Bellatrix

End Flashes

Harry falls to his knees and curls up into a ball as a caucus of noise and murmurs from the veil seem to physically surround him.

Harry tries to mumble out words, "Mum… save me… Cedric… don't take the cup… Dad…don't die … Sirius…stop…no…you're falling… come on…let me catch you…"

All of a sudden a dark wispy cloud hovers over Harry while a web of golden light pierces Harry's body.

As each ray of golden light passes through Harry, it changes color, from red, orange, green, cerulean, blue, indigo, violet, tawny, brown, black, and finally a pure white light that blinds the whole room.

All the while Harry's muttering grows louder, his tears create a miniscule pond around him, his body convulsing with an erratic beat.

Constantly appearing to be tortured by all means of physical, mental, and emotional hardships and grief Harry kneels in suppliance.

Then a growing whisper, with the words "BOY"…"freaks…" "care…" "Voldiewart…" "kill…" "alone…" wakes Harry up.