Disclaimer: I own nothing and have very little money. What little I have I just used to buy OOTP and a bunch of Harry Potter stationary. Please don't be mad at me Ms. Rowling. Every one knows they are your characters.
Warning: Spoilers for all HP books, character deaths and some down right unpleasant situations for our hero.
Reviews please!
In Fire Lies Redemption
By Marz
Chapter 1
Guns Without Roses
The chain was rusty and it creaked every time he moved. His feet scratched little trails in the dust as he swung slowly back and forth. The sun beat on him and sweat trickled down his face and back, but he could not leave. It was only noon. She still might come, he thought, then sighed. Harry Potter was used to boring, frustrating, even terrifying summer vacations. He was also used to solitude and isolation, so he never would have imagined himself waiting three hours in a broken down play ground under the blistering sun on the off chance that an almost stranger might decide to walk her dogs. I have to talk to someone though, or I'm going to forget how.
Every once in a while he would sit up straighter in the swing and look about, trying to home in on the eyes he knew were watching him. I suppose I should be grateful they don't follow me around inside the house; I'd never be able to shower. The guard the Order had assigned to him never had introduced him or her self, and whoever it was had ignored all Harry's attempts at small talk. At least if they won't talk to me they can't tell me to stay inside. He heard a dog bark, and his heart jumped. He half expected to see a huge black furred monster of a dog come bounding into the park, but then a short, brown haired girl tottered through the gate, followed by two German Shepherds.
"Hey Joan!" Harry shouted, wincing as his voice cracked a little.
Joan hobbled up the small hill towards him, taking short stiff steps. Her leg braces creaked with each unsteady stride. Her upper body swung about in an attempt to balance, flinging her hair into her eyes. Both of the dogs yipped like puppies, though they were grey around the snout. She smiled at him and waved her too short hands. It still made Harry's stomach turn slightly, looking at what was left of her fingers. She never went into detail about why they all were missing just after the knuckle, so he didn't pry.
"Hey Harold, I just got the coolest thing in the mail, guess what?"
She waited approximately half a second before continuing. "It's the new transistors I was telling you about, and some antenna components! My short-wave is going to have five times the range!"
Joan went on to describe a detailed assembling process, pausing long enough to hand Harry a Frisbee, which he threw for the dogs. For the next twenty minutes she talked. By the end of her monologue she could have been speaking a different language. When she looked at him he nodded, trying to look interested.
She was not really a substitute for Ron and Hermione, the friends he likely would not see until the school year resumed, but she was friendly, and seemed oblivious to the fact that he had told her nothing meaning full about himself. She also apparently bought all the half truths and out right lies he told her about his school, hobbies and family. He still regretted telling her he liked to fly kites. He had started to say brooms, and his cover up was just about the lamest pursuit a teenager could partake in. Joan didn't seem to hold it against him though. She told him a long and bizarre story about how a boy in her second grade class had electrocuted himself flying a kite into some power lines, and supposedly gained the ability to guess anyone's birthday, give or take a week. Harry could not tell if she was being nervous or just really liked the sound of her own voice. Even if they never talked about anything important at least she would talk to him, unlike his relatives.
After Moody threatened them at the train station they had not said a word to him. A list of chores was left pinned to his door every morning, and dinner was served at seven thirty, whether he was present or not. If he attended the meal they would ignore him, standing and walking around the table rather then asking him to pass the rolls. After a week of the silent treatment he was becoming dependent on pointless conversations with a strange crippled teenager he met at the jungle gym.
"So did you want to see it then?" She was starring at him.
"Of course." he answered instinctively.
"I'll probably have it finished by this afternoon. Did you see that on the news last night, a gas explosion in London? I don't know why they don't check for that sort of problem more often, there was a gas explosion the week before that too. I think they've got a big problem with all the pipes. They've all rotted out or something. They're probably trying to cover it up so they won't have to pay for replacing them. What do you think?"
I think Voldemort is making his move and I'm stuck here. I think death eaters are going to start murdering people left and right and the Ministry of Magic will do nothing to stop them. I think the Order of the Phoenix is doomed if they expect me to save the world when I couldn't even save one man. I think you should go home and stock up on canned food, and dig escape tunnels in your back yard, he thought. He shrugged and mumbled "maybe".
He looked across the park to the rows and rows of identical houses on every side of them, stretching to the horizon.
"Joan what do you think happens to people, when they die?" Harry asked quietly.
She did not look at all surprised by the question. "I guess they go on, to heaven or purgatory or whatever, maybe reincarnation, though I'd hate to come back as a goldfish or a potato or anything odd like that. As I see it where you go is the big mystery, but I am sure people go somewhere. Why'd you ask? Feeling ill?"
"No, I just wanted to know what you thought."
The afternoon wore on and Harry started to get hungry. Joan was trying to get her dogs to throw the Frisbee to her.
"Like this." she said to the two silent animals. Harry's mouth dropped open in amused horror as she put the filthy plastic disc in her own mouth and twisted her head sharply. The Frisbee sailed a few feet. The dogs looked confused for a few seconds then one of the dogs, Pickles his name might have been, but Harry honestly could not tell them apart, snapped up the Frisbee. Joan was almost giddy with anticipation but then the other dog, Spencer, bit the edge of it and they played tug of war.
"I don't think they're ever going to get it." she sighed.
"Maybe they just didn't want to get your germs." said Harry, grinning slightly. "I can't believe you put that in your mouth. It had dog drool all over it."
"Dogs have cleaner mouths then people."
"Then you, maybe."
She laughed, and checked her watch.
"Oh no! It's almost two, I promised dad I'd have the phone hooked up again by now. I was only going to put in a splitter in the upstairs hall, for my computer's modem, so I wouldn't have to keep changing the plug you know? But now I'll have to, oh no! I've got to go now. See you later Harold."
She took off at a fast walk whistling for her dogs as she went. They ran after her both still chomping on the Frisbee. She waved goodbye as she turned out of the gate. Harry jogged back to number 4 Privet Drive, feeling a bit better and hoping there was some thing edible in the refrigerator.
He found a note on the kitchen counter.
Dear Dudleykins,
Mummy and Daddy had to run out to a lunch meeting with a very important client. We should be back around seven. We'll bring you some thing special for dinner. One night off your diet couldn't hurt. We're so proud of you by the way. See you this evening Popkin.
Love,
Mum
Harry smiled and went about fixing a quick meal. Dudley was out with his gang, and probably would not be back all afternoon, which meant Harry could watch the television and use the phone undisturbed.
Harry tried calling Hermione but only got her answering machine. He sighed, grabbed the remote, and flopped onto the couch, settling his decomposing sneakers on one of aunt Petunia's embroidered pillows. The 5 o'clock news was just getting over when there was a knock at the door. I must have locked Dudley out, he thought as he walked into the hall way.
Harry stood on his toes and looked out the peep hole. Dudley's sweaty distorted face blotted out the rest of the porch. He looked sick. Smoked a few too many with Malcolm, he thought. Harry was reaching for the knob when Dudley shouted.
"Open the door Potter!" His voice was shaking and desperate. Harry undid the lock and it swung slowly open. Dudley stood before him oddly stiff. His eyes darted about.
"What's your problem?" Harry asked when Dudley made no move to enter.
"That would be me." drawled a cool voice.
Casually, Draco Malfoy stepped from behind the enormous teenager. Malfoy was dressed in muggle cloths. He sneered in a very superior manner. He was holding a very large gun. Harry's hand darted to the wand in his pocket but Malfoy, for once in his life, moved quicker. The barrel was pressed to Dudley's temple and the resounding click of the hammer froze Harry.
"That's not very polite Potter." Malfoy drawled. "Your cousin has just invited us in for tea, why don't you put your hands on your head and step aside there."
Harry looked at Malfoy who was absolutely glowing with triumph, then at Dudley. If it were me with a gun to my head, he'd let me die. But if they come inside then Dumbledore's spell should protect us. No harm in the house where my mother's blood dwells, that was it wasn't it? Please let that be it. Harry obeyed.
Dudley entered first, Malfoy close behind. From the bushes on either side of the door Crabbe, Goyle, and Millicent Bulstrode appeared, all dressed as muggles. They walked into the house smirking. None of them had a wand at hand. Millicent shoved Harry against the wall, searched him with excessive thoroughness and took his wand from him as well. Harry and Dudley were marched into the kitchen.
"Family doesn't like you much, do they Potter?" said Malfoy, inspecting the pictures as they passed through the house.
Harry shrugged. The Order's guard should have spotted something wrong by now. Dumbledore himself is on the way. I'll I've got to do is stall.
As if reading his mind Malfoy spoke. "No one's coming to help you Potter. Your babysitter met with an unfortunate accident a few minutes ago, and the Dark Lord is hiding us from any prying magic. You're going to die today."
Harry snorted, and slouched a bit, trying hard to simultaneously look cool and not vomit. "If you planned to kill us you shouldn't have insisted on coming in, things have a nasty way of reflecting in my home."
Malfoy sneered and began to pace the room. "Reflecting off you maybe, but the Dark Lord has found a way around all that. Dumbledore's spells only protect you from magical harm. Muggle weapons will work just fine. You know, I'm actually growing rather fond of this 'gun'. Your babysitter made such a funny face when I shot her. We're going to kill the rest of your family first, by the way, just to make sure all those blood spells are gone."
He stopped his pacing a meter in front of Dudley, who let out an odd choking sound as Malfoy leveled the gun at his heart.
"Any last words for Potter, muggle?"
"This is all your fault." mumbled Dudley.
The hammer clicked. Harry moved. He slipped a bit on the overly waxed kitchen floor as he ran. His fingers closed around Malfoy's wrist. Crabbe and Goyle were shouting mutedly in the background. His momentum carried him between Dudley and the gun.
The cracking noise rattled the windows.
There was a hot feeling across his stomach. Harry sank to his knees, the sound still echoing in his ears. He looked up at Malfoy, who seemed momentarily surprised, but that expression was washed away by a sinister grin.
"The Dark Lord is always right Potter. Does it hurt?"
Harry looked down. The front of his baggy grey shirt was soaked with blood, and more was seeping onto his pants and spattering the floor. The room and every one around him seemed to be rapidly backing away. The walls looked as if they were stretching out. It felt as if he was sinking into the floor. He put his hand to the wound in his stomach.
"No, it doesn't," he answered.
"This one might." Malfoy pressed the barrel, still burning hot, to the scar in the center of Harry's fore head.
**************
The air in the room was just a little too warm, decided Remus Lupin as he shook himself awake for the tenth time. Whenever he looked at the maps the lines blurred. I slept for ten hours last night, I can't be this tired, he though miserably. But he was always tired lately. The bizarre feverish hope that had gotten him on his feet three years earlier had faded to almost nothing. He had known Voldemort would return, even that night, when he had gone to Ministry with Albus, the night he had seen the scorched physical remains of that thing, he knew it would return. But he had never expected for Sirius to come back as well. He never expected so many to come to the Order's call. All the unexpected goodness, that was the terrible part. It built up a bridge that collapsed out from under him. Miracles must feed on things like irony and misery, or maybe it's the other way around. This moping isn't getting any work done. He rubbed his eyes with his knuckles. I'll just rest my eyes for a second, just long enough for the gritty feeling to go away. He slumped slowly backward in his chair.
"Remus close the door, the carpet will be ruined."
Rain dribbled through the leaking shingles of the porch, splashing in the door way.
"There's something in the yard mum."
He stood in the door way of the cottage, watching the shining eyes, half hidden in the hedges. Not this again. Wake up. But his seven year old self did not respond. The boy just carried him around behind his eyes, repeating the same foolish mistakes.
"Mum, there's something in the yard. It's watching me. Come look."
"Close the door, I'll have a look in a minute." his mother called from the kitchen.
"Romulus, come look."
No don't look, please don't look. Something in the dream was different this time. It took him a moment to catch on. His twin brother walked up to the door, but nothing charged out of yard. The wolf did not tear into Remus, dislocating his arm and opening his throat. It did not turn and kill Romulus when he tried to pull it off his brother. His mother did not come running from the kitchen only to be attacked herself. She did not kill it with a silver blade she summand from the kitchen, and then bleed to death, her eyes staring blankly at him. The wolf did not come.
Seven year old Remus walked into the yard, the details of it blurry and indistinct. He knew his brother was walking with him.
"Neither of you should be here." said Romulus.
Something moved in the darkness, approaching slowly.
"You shouldn't come here; it's not supposed to be this way. The door is closed." said Romulus.
Remus looked at him in confusion. His eyes are too old, Remus though. The thing came closer, ambling slowly on four legs. Out of the darkness a huge black dog appeared. Its light blue eyes looked at him pleadingly.
"You have to go." Romulus said to the dog.
It whined.
"He says he won't go unless I tell you," Romulus said quietly, "So I guess I must. He says 'Go to him he needs you.'"
The dog whined again.
"He says wake up."
***************
CREEEEEEEEEEEEEAK!
The sound echoed through the house as if the world's most decrepit hinges were being turned. Everyone but Harry instinctively looked toward the living room. Harry shoved the gun away and tried to get up but his legs would not move, not even a little.
"Go check it out." Malfoy ordered. Crabbe and Goyle nodded and marched out. He looked back at Harry.
"Can you move your legs? It doesn't look like it. I'll make you a deal Potter, if you can stand up for just three seconds, I'll let your cousin live, what do you say?"
Harry looked at him. He knew he was just playing stupid games, but stupid games wasted time. He nodded, and began dragging himself across the floor toward the kitchen counter. The feeling did not return as he crawled, but maybe he could prop himself up some how, buy them a few more minutes. Crabbe and Goyle returned. One stood on either side of Dudley, who was watching him with a very confused expression.
"The door blew shut." said Crabbe. They both laughed at Harry as he pulled himself along. He reached up and caught the edge of the counter. His vision went black for a moment, but he did not let go. He pulled, arms shaking and brought his chest even with the counter top. He braced his arms on the counter and turned toward Malfoy. His legs shook horribly as he put his weight on them. They were rubbery, but they did not fall out of under him. He lifted his hand free to show he was standing on his own.
"One, two, three." He choked out. Something hot and wet was running out his mouth and down his chin.
"Oh that's cheating, it doesn't count." said Millicent. Harry had never heard her talk before.
"You're right. Shame on you Potter, Cheating!" Malfoy admonished. He started across the room, his eyes gleaming, but they darted into the hallway as he walked passed it.
"Wha..?"
His surprised question was cut off as Joan leapt at him, grabbing for the gun. They fell and rolled across the floor. Crabbe and Goyle started forward. Crabbe turned in confusion as something caught his sleeve. Dudley's fist collided with Crabbe's jaw, which popped. He slumped boneless to the floor. Goyle was on Dudley a moment later and the two huge teenagers grappled. The table went over, and a very ugly vase smashed in jagged ceramic shards. Millicent knocked Harry down and rushed to help Malfoy, but Harry grabbed her ankle, tripping her. His wand fell from her hand. She tried to kick him away but he did not let go. Malfoy shouted in pain as he and Joan rolled through the remains of the vase. He slammed her against the floor but she would not release her hold on the gun. He let go of her with one hand, raising his fist, but she let go with one hand as well. Joan grabbed up a shard of ceramic and slashed across Malfoy's face. He howled in pain and she kicked him away. She scrambled to her feet, and fired a shot into the ceiling. Every one froze, and stared.
"You, girl, get away from Harold. Go over there." Joan waved the gun toward the far side of the kitchen where Crabbe lay. Millicent scrambled to obey. She aimed the gun at Goyle next.
"You go stand next to her, and you!" she said pointing at Malfoy.
She kept the gun pointing at them, but turned to Dudley. "Go call and ambulance and the police!" He obeyed as well, rushing to the phone in the hall. She tottered across the kitchen to Harry who lay on his back. Her braces creaked with every step. Just as she reached him Malfoy moved. He grabbed something from his pocket. Joan shrieked and the gun went off. It blew a large hole in an empty wall. The four attackers had disappeared. Joan looked nervously about, then with a huge creaking knelt at Harry's side.
"Harold stay awake, alright? Your brothers calling the ambulance, all you have to do is stay awake. Can you hear me? Say something!" She put the gun on the floor and shook his shoulders. "You're supposed to put pressure on a wound right?"
Why are you asking me?
"I'm going to try that, tell me if it gets better or worse." She pushed her palms down hard on the wound. He screamed, and so did she. Dudley ran in, the phone dragging along behind him by the cord.
"Where'd they go?" he shouted, looking at the space that had recently been vacated.
"They just disappeared! Is that the ambulance on the phone, tell them he's bleeding a lot. Tell them he's been shot, tell them!"
Stop shouting, its making my head hurt, he thought. As if obeying their voices began to fade. A new sound entered his ears, a faint rhythmic clicking. He looked past Joan and Dudley who were alternately screaming into the telephone. Just inside the back door, was the monstrous black dog. It walked toward him, toenails clicking against the tiles, its head lowered. It sniffed at the blood on the floor. The dog circled Dudley and Joan and they took no notice of it. It stopped right by his shoulder and looked into his eyes. It looked terribly sad.
Hey snuffles. He thought, trying to reach up and pet the animal. His hand wouldn't move. Do I get to go with you this time? The dog whined. The lights blinked out.