Disclaimer
Everything except the plot used in this fan fiction belong to J.K Rowling. This fan fiction is written not for profit, and does not intend to infringe on any copyrights.
Warnings / Information
This fanfic contains slash (homosexuality), if you are offended by such things, please do not read. Unfortunately, incest is also in the table, although there's no hardcode brother loving going on in here - wouldn't like that, would they? This is set after OoTP, and will contain spoilers for all five books.
This is not a random PWP everyone have sex, get together fic. Ron and Harry are clearly not gay in any of the books, and I fully intend to stick as close to canon as far as I can. Trust me, it'll all work out.
Pairings: RWHP, HPRW, RWHG, GWNL, SFDT, FWGW, HPCC.
Brief Outline
Harry returns to the Dursleys for the summer, deeply troubled not only by the death of his Godfather, but also the terrible prophecy made about himself and Voldemort. An enraged Voldemort bides his time, plotting his revenge.
Author's Note
This is my first attempt at writing for this particular fandom. At first, I was rather reluctant to even set one toe into Jo Rowling's world, however I have been convinced to give this a try. Please review, give feedback, point out typos - the more (constructive) feedback the better. On with the show!
Revised: 27 / 12 / 2004 - Thanks to all my reviewers and friends who gave feedback. Here's the complete chapter with my comma-abuse issues solved! Thanks to Tonneh and SiriousB1.
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Chapter 1 - Writing the Dead
Moonlight shines through the large window on a cloudless July night of the street-facing side of Harry Potter's bedroom in number 14, Privet Drive. Sitting alone at his desk, dressed for bed in shorts and t-shirt; Harry pauses mid-sentence to ink-up his quill and to think about his wording. The parchment rolled out in front of him lit by a table lamp, is almost covered in his messy black scribbles the occasional patch of text smudged by teardrops.
Gone are the bars which once adorned the windows. The only key for the lock on his door sits on Harry's dresser - only the cat flap which was once the only way he'd receive his food and drink remains as a small reminder of the cruelty, driven by fear, which the messy-haired teen had suffered at the hands of his Uncle and Aunt.
Every inch of the walls of his room are covered in wizarding posters, Chuddley Cannons Quidditch team flies between the posters, knocking the other occupants out of the way as they continue their practice match. Only the area directly opposite the wall on his room contains mundane items - a small concession he made to his Aunt, who did not want to risk her neighbours seeing the enchanted pictures.
He nibbles thoughtfully on the end of his quill, looking around his room. The light of the lamp on his desk reflects off his face; showing his green eyes, burning red with tears.
Harry returns to his labour, now smiling faintly despite his previous mood; finishes his sentence and signs the letter with a flourish. He looks down on the letter - written at Remus' request, reading it through:
Dear Snuffles.
Ever since that day at the Department of Mysteries you've been on the font of my mind, the guilt I feel for causing your death is more punishment than even the Dementors of Azkaban could ever hope to unleash. It is all my fault, I should have studied Occulmancy harder, or spoke to someone about my vision. I should have used the mirror… I hope wherever you are, you can forgive me as I can never forgive myself.
Mad-Eye and Moony have make sure I'll be safe here at the Dursleys - Uncle Vernon is so scared that one of them will pop out of the fireplace and hex him into oblivion that he's being positively civil. While it is more peaceful here - I can't say I'm happy. I long to be back in The Burrow, surrounded by the noisy, boisterous Weasley clan. Is it strange that I feel more at home in my best friend's home, than I do with my own 'family'?
Cho Chang and I have been writing each other over the summer. I guess when the time comes for us to return to Hogwart's. we'll officially be an item. Although we were thrown together by a horrible tragedy, it's a testament to her strength that she has not allowed the evil of Voldemort to hang over the rest of her life. I only wish I could to the same.
Ron and Hermione are both getting closer, although they're both to stubborn to admit to each other how they feel, I'm sure it will all work out - especially after what happened… at the end of the 5th year. Ron was ok… but it was still my fault he'd been hurt…
Tomorrow, Fred and George will be apparating by to see how I'm doing, and to give me a grand tour of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, at least some good has come out of Voldemort's return, we'll be heading back to The Burrow after the trip to Daiagon Alley - I'll be coming home at last.
I know you'd want to know what I've been up to over the summer, and I'm more than happy to keep you informed.
Moony asked me to write this, and I'm glad I have now, he says hello - and also sends his best to Prongs. If you really are with my father now Sirius… Well, let's just say I hope you're not causing too much trouble.
I have to go to bed now, so I'll say goodnight.
Your Godson
Harry.
Fresh tears join their companions on the parchment as Harry picks it up from the desktop, extinguishes the lamp, and heads over to his window. He pushes open the window with his free hand - confident that no-one in Little Whining will be awake at this hour. Reaching now for the cigarette lighter he bought just for this purpose, Harry sets fire to the corner of the parchment, waits for it to take, and then drops the burning letter down into the sleeping street.
By the time Harry has closed the window and slipped into bed, glasses on his bedside table; the burnt ashes of his letter reach the ground below. For the first time in the months since his return home from Hogwart's, Harry slips into a dreamless sleep.
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'Master! No! I beg you! Please… have mercy! I'll not fail you again! It was all that boy's fault… And Dumbledore…' Beseeches the tall woman with dark sunken eyes as she cowers on the cold stone floor of her master's new headquarters.
'I have had enough of your excuses, Bella,' came a high, cold voice; frosty like winter in Siberia. He rises from his throne, seeming to unfold rather than stand naturally. The white-skeletal fingers on his right hand grips a long black wand, currently pointed at the snivelling woman prostrating herself on the floor at his feet. 'Crucio.'
Screams fill the chamber as Bellatrix LeStrange twitches and bubbles on the floor; under the influence of the excruciating Cruciatus Curse, a fitting irony given past events. Eventually the sobs dwindle as Lord Voldemort releases Bella from his power.
'I do not expect you to fail me again Bella, or I assure you that you and your husband will be sharing a ward with the Longbottoms in St Mungo's.' He throws back his black hood revealing his bony, hairless head. His face is as white as fresh fallen snow and oddly flattened; more serpentine than human. His nose is a mere two slits on the centre of his face; his mouth is cruel, oddly squared, and fanged. His eyes - the more terrifying features on an already horrific face are more cat-like than human, blood-red with black slits for pupils. 'The prophecy was a tragic loss to me - as I'm sure was the death of your cousin to you.' A high, cold and joyless laugh offends the room. 'However, the fact that you could not even complete this simple task, this offends me Bella. I will not tolerate another lapse on your part. Here is what I want you to do, and quickly - the new Hogwart's term starts soon.'
Bella crawled up to her knees as listened intently, still twitching at odd times from the shock of the curse. As her master detailed her part in his grand scheme a small grin gradually grew across her face, and after ten minutes of explanation she was laughing almost exactly as Lord Voldemort had done earlier.
'A truly magnificent plan, my Master.'
'Of course it is, go now! We must move quickly, now that the Ministry is aware of my rebirth!'
A loud crack fills the stone dungeon as Bella disapparates.
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Harry awoke to his radio alarm clock informing him that today was a very bad time to be travelling on the M75. He flailed around with his right hand, eventually managing to quiet the noise. As he was finally ready to roll back over and sleep he was again disturbed, this time by a scratching at his window. He threw his quilt off him and made his way across the room to his window.
Throwing back the curtains he was greeted by Hedwig, his beautiful snowy owl, hooting dolefully with a message tied to her leg. Beside her on the window-ledge was a large screech owl which bore the Hogwart's crest of a badger, lion, eagle and snake representing the school's four houses around a large letter H.
Harry opened the window and stepped back. First the school owl swooped in, dropped the letter on Harry's bed, and left. Hedwig flew into the room and landed gently on Harry's shoulder. She nipped his ear affectionately with her beak as he walked with her over to his dresser. At the dresser; she hopped off and held out her leg ready for Harry to untie the message. Removing the scroll he recognises at once Ron's own messy hand:
Hey Harry,
How's your summer going? Ours is going pretty well although one thing is missing - you. I've been at my mum since we came away from Hogwart's to get you over here. She says the same thing over and over, that we know why you're there and that Dumbledore says that you've to stay put until he can set up other wards to protect you.
Personally, I think it's a bit over the top and I know you must be going mental stuck in there with those muggles. I know Mad-Eye put the wind up them and all; but still - I know you miss us as much as we miss you. Still, I guess he knows best.
Has Hermione said anything to you about me? I know she's been writing you. Not that I care or anything, I just want to know if she's still writing that Vicky.
I'll send Pig along later tomorrow with some stuff. I'm sitting here ready for bed just now. I was going to send this letter with Pig but Hedwig just turned up, as if she knew I was wiring you a letter or something.
Two weeks 'til school goes back!
Ron
Harry shook his head… Those two, seriously. The day Hermione and Ron finally admit to each other their feelings will be the day Dudley looses ten stone and Uncle Vernon says the word 'Wizard' without flinching, or looking around to see if anyone heard him.
The second letter drew his attention from the bed, momentarily forgotten because of Ron's letter, he now dives onto his bed, and discovers at once that the letter is not simply the normal Hogwart's booklist:
Dear Mr Potter,
Please find enclosed the full table detailing your academic achievements to date at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. May I be first to congratulate you on your outstanding performance. Your results reflect the high standards of learning we have come to expect from since a fine institution as Hogwart's.
Yours,
Mrs Agatha Cunning
Deputy Minister of Education
Astounded, Harry tears into the package looking down the table:
Potions: O
Transfiguration: E
Charms: E
Defence against the Dark Arts: E
History of Magic: A
Divination: D
Care for Magical Creatures: O
Better than anything he expected, he reads through the results three times before it all sinks in: seven OWLs. Seven. Six more than anything he expected. Knowing his muggle Aunt and Uncle wouldn't understand them, or even that while they are being civil, they still don't care; he chooses instead to write to Remus, Mad Eye, Ron and Hermione. He sits down at his desk and begins copying the table out on four separate pieces of parchment, eager to share the first piece of good news he's had in a long time.