Harry stared up at his ceiling. He had read every book on magic that he possessed, as well as a few borrowed from various members of the Order. Initially, he had read his books in order to gain more knowledge - knowledge that could mean the difference between life and death, murderer or victim; but soon it had become an escape route - he could forget everything bad about his life while he drank in the information. He supposed he ought to be grateful that the Dursley's were leaving him alone, but by that point, he wasn't too concerned with them. Dragging his eyes downwards, he saw that Remus was due to arrive in a matter of minutes. He had better get moving.
Remus, as predicted, arrived five minutes later, smiling slightly.
"How are you today?" He asked.
"Getting better, I guess. You?"
"I'll feel better when you're out of here."
"Huh? You mean I'm leaving? When? Where am I going?"
"First of all, you're leaving today for Hogwarts - Professor Dumbledore has something of a surprise for you."
"A surprise? Harry asked dubiously.
"Yes, a surprise. Don't worry, it's a good surprise."
"Ok - what time are we leaving?"
"Just as soon as you're ready."
"Great - I'm ready." Harry said, throwing a small stack of parchment and a few books into his trunk.
"Are you sure you've got everything?"
"I only unpacked what I needed." Harry shrugged, closing his trunk.
"Good idea." Within moments, Harry and Remus were holding onto a Portkey, waiting for it to activate. Moments later, it did, whisking the two wizards away from Privet Drive and to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Dumbledore surveyed one of his favourite students over the top of his half-moon glasses. Harry was fidgeting slightly in his chair, his eyes fixed on Fawkes, who sat on his knee and crooned softly. To Dumbledore, the boy - no, man - looked fairly healthy and much less gaunt than they had seen him in previous years after staying in Privet Drive for the summer. However, the shadows both in and around his eyes worried the headmaster.
"How are you, Harry?"
"I'm fine, Sir." Harry said stiffly. Dumbledore's heart sank a little further - while Harry had always been a polite child, he had never sounded as...distant as he did then. He looked over at Remus, who was biting his lip worriedly. Harry had perked up for a little in Privet Drive after finding out he was leaving, but as soon as they had landed in Hogwarts, shutters had fallen in Harry's eyes, and he had hardly spoken a word since.
"I have decided that you deserve a little break from the Muggles - from everything, in fact. I took the liberty of arranging a holiday for you."
"A holiday?" Harry asked, showing no outward signs of a reaction.
"Yes - two weeks on Florida."
"Who is coming with me?" He glanced from Remus, who looked thoughtful, and Dumbledore, who had begun to look a little dispirited.
"You know, Professor, that's a very good question." Remus said.
"Well...Professor Snape will be going."
"What? No way. Not a bloody chance - we hate each other!" Harry said, looking horrified. Remus gaped at the headmaster as if he had lost his mind.
"As I told Severus, this trip will also help you overcome your differences."
"I don't have a choice in this, do I?"
"Not really, no." Dumbledore admitted brightly, "Would you prefer to stay at the Dursley's?" Harry was torn - Florida or Privet Drive; Snape or the Dursleys; magic or Muggle.
"At least I know where I stand with the Dursley's." He muttered half-heartedly.
"Very well, now, you will be staying in Gryffindor Tower for the next week - the password is Schnoogles. Tomorrow we will begin work on your disguise."
"Disguise?"
"Yes - I'm afraid it is too dangerous for you to travel as Harry Potter - perhaps you could begin thinking of what you wish to look like and a name suitable for your new persona."
"May I go now?"
"Of course."
Back in Gryffindor Tower, Harry sat, lost in thought as he painted. He had discovered during his time with the Dursley's that drawing and painting was a good outlet for his feelings - feelings that words couldn't express. He looked at the picture critically - it was of a young man, perhaps a few years older than himself. A man with short, raven-blue-black hair, deep hazel eyes and tanned skin. The man had the same bone structure as Harry had, and the same wisdom in his eyes.
"My disguise. My new persona. All I need now is a name." He murmured softly.
Dumbledore noticed that when Harry arrived in the Great Hall for dinner, he looked a little preoccupied. He also saw a splatter of red on his hand.
"Harry, are you all right?" He asked worriedly. Harry looked up, looking mildly surprised and somewhat confused.
"I'm fine." He said, toying with the food on his plate.
"What's that on your hand?"
"Paint." Harry said, rubbing it off with a napkin.
"Paint?"
"Yeah - I was painting before I came down." Remus looked happy at this,
"Can I see them?" He asked, remembering having seen some of the drawings and paintings Harry had created in Privet Drive.
"Yeah - they're not very good." Harry shrugged, looking a little hesitant, as always.
"You said that about the others, and they were good." Remus said, earning a questioning glance from Dumbledore.
"D'you want me to go and get them?" Harry asked, pushing his plate aside.
"Only after you've finished eating."
"I'm not particularly hungry." Harry said, standing and leaving.
He came back a few minutes later, holding a few pieces of paper. He walked over to where Remus sat and handed them to him. He fidgeted uncomfortably, watching as Remus stared at the picture of what he hoped would become his temporary persona.
"Who's this?"
"Alex Joseph. That's what I want to look like - for this holiday."
"May I take a look, Harry?" Dumbledore asked. Harry nodded, watching as Remus passed the painting to the headmaster, looking at the next one - a painting of the castle set in the grounds at night. He frowned slightly, looking up at Harry.
"Where did the red paint come from?" He asked curiously. Harry fidgeted some more, handing over a last sheet, albeit reluctantly. Remus' mouth dropped open. If the first two paintings had been lifelike and breathtaking, the third was even more lifelike and was terrifyingly striking. Lord Voldemort stood proud against a blood red sky, his dark robes and chalky pallor contrasting sharply. On the floor at his feet was Harry - he was bound to a gravestone, and was helpless. Green eyes burned with hatred so strong that Remus shivered. Harry bit his lip, snatching the picture from Remus' hands and ripping it in half, apologising briefly before running out of the room, letting the two halves of the picture float to the table. Remus pulled his wand, repairing the picture. The teachers around him gasped, and Snape grew pale.
"The Third Task." Dumbledore said softly, examining the painting.
"Albus, is that him?" Professor McGonagall asked, voicing the question that all of them had been thinking. It was Snape who answered.
"Yes it is." He murmured hollowly, staring into the malicious scarlet eyes. He couldn't believe that Potter - arrogant, Golden-Boy Potter - had drawn something so...he wasn't sure how to describe the painting. It just didn't seem like the boy he had taught - not painting something that showed him vulnerable to Voldemort. He frowned slightly, turning his attention from the towering and skeletal form of Voldemort to Harry - even in the painting, fury and hatred were plain in his glare and in the way he was struggling against the bonds.
"Perhaps Harry would like his drawings returned?" Dumbledore suggested. Severus muttered a copying charm, wanting to study it further. No one noticed this though - no one was paying him the slightest bit of attention. He strode from the room, taking all three paintings with him. He walked up to Gryffindor Tower, spitting out the password and striding in. What he found was not what he was expecting. Potter was curled up in an armchair, fast asleep. There was a single tear track down one cheek, and he clutched a sketchpad. Gently prying it from his hands, careful not to wake him, Severus began to flick through the drawings. There were pencil drawings as well as ink drawings and paintings - all of which were incredibly lifelike and detailed. There were pictures of his friends and of several people that Severus didn't recognise. There were a few of the staff at Hogwarts, including - rather surprisingly - one of him. He paused at that one. In it, he looked utterly enraged, and as if he wanted nothing more than to hex the living daylights out of something - or someone. Instead, there was a glass jar just leaving his hand, hurled in fury. Closing the book and laying it beside Potter, Severus placed the paintings beside it and conjured a blanket to cover Potter with.
Harry woke to find that someone had been in while he was asleep. His paintings had been returned, his sketchbook had been placed with them. He threw the blanket off of him, shivering as he wondered who had seen his sketches. No one - not even Remus - had seen his sketch book before now, and it left him feeling vulnerable that someone had been able to snatch a glimpse of life through his eyes.
"Well, Harry, as you have already chosen a name and a new look, we shall make a start on bringing into reality - now, could I have a look at that painting again, please?"
"Sure." Harry murmured, handing the headmaster a copy of the painting.
Four days later, almost everything was ready for the holiday - Harry and Remus had gone shopping for some new clothes for Harry, Harry's - or rather Alex's - passport was ready, as well as any other documentation that may come in useful. Alex was an eighteen year-old Mythology student. Harry still hadn't found out for sure who it was that had looked through his sketchbook, though he strongly suspected Snape. Now it was simply a matter of waiting.