Lily fought hard to hold back angry tears of pain, as she followed him out of the station. "Mama, take my hand," she whispered.
Twenty or so miles away, Harry Potter paced around his bedroom. The memory of Sirius would not leave him alone. He was so...angry.
His eyes stung. His heart began to race. He grinded his teeth hard as his scar began to sear with pain. He felt a sickening rush of joy in the depths of his stomach.
He played these games often with Voldemort. His grief of losing Sirius would consume him, and Voldemort would always answer his grief with joy. He glanced at the pile of letters addressed to him on his dresser all from Ron and Hermione, and Hagrid. He hadn't opened any.
He just didn't care anymore about anyone or anything. He hated everyone, he hated himself so much. An overwhelming feeling rose up inside him. Harry suddenly spun around and puked into his rubbish bin. Breathing heavily he collapsed onto thee floor. He desperately wanted to smash his head through a window or act on any of the mad ideas playing in his head. His scar was searing with pain. A crackling voice full of malice started singing in his head.
"Harry Potter, I love you like I love my daughter, come to me. Harry, Harry, jump out the window and come to me. Don't you see what I'm capable of doing to you? Your evil, your evil. You know you love me Harry in a sick way. You want me, you want me, I'll make you just like me Harry."
"Stop it!" Harry moaned. "STOP IT! VOLDEMORT, YOU SON OF A BITCH!"
The sudden burst of anger gave Harry the sanity he needed to clear his mind. He took five deep breaths and thought of nothing. The horrible sing song voice tormenting him faded and Harry started coming to himself.
Shaking, and covered in a cold sweat he stood up and forced himself to go downstairs and get some leftover dinner. He hadn't eaten for two days straight mainly because the Dursley's had posted a list of rules limiting his access to food, he never had an appetite anyway. The list of rules Uncle Vernon had tacked to the fridge were very similar to what a family may expect from a pest of a dog:
The Potter Rules
1. You are never to eat with us. If
there are leftovers you may eat them.
2. On a sunny day you are
not allowed in the house. You must stay outside.
3. On a rainy day
you are to stay in your room
4. Do not speak talk to us unless it
is an emergency of if we ask you a question
5. We don't like
seeing you. Stay out of our way.
6. You are not permitted to ask
questions.
7. Curfew is at 12 am for you and 3am for Dudley
because he is so much more mature then you!
Harry chuckled to himself as he scooped out mashed potatoes onto his plate. Yea his cousin Dudley was so mature; if by that they meant mature enough to be a father. Yup Dudders had gotten Rebecca Evans (neighborhood slut) pregnant.
Harry had heard Dudley joking about it with his mates one afternoon not so long ago while he was on a walk, "and if she doesn't get rid of it, I'll beat it out of her and shag her again." All of Dudley's pot smoking friends laughed. Harry felt sick just remembering.
He stepped outside and strode past Aunt Petunia who was feverishly attempting to weed her ugly garden.
He headed for Ms. Figgs house. He reckoned a nice friendly visit with some one who somewhat understood him, or at least his world, might install some sanity back in him.
"Harry!" Ms. Figg exclaimed as she opened the door. "Come in, come in. Oh! What a pleasant surprise!"
Harry stepped inside and looked around at the old, somewhat filthy house. He liked it so much more then his aunt's obsessively clean house.
"Come, come," she directed him into the kitchen. "I'll make us some tea!"
"Thank you. How are you doing Ms. Figg?" Harry asked awkwardly. He had never stopped by like this before. "At least she seemed really pleased to have company," he thought as he watched her bounce around the kitchen making tea.
"I'm getting older Harry," she replied casually strongly reminding him of a calm Mrs. Weasley. "You look skinnier then a rail boy!" She beamed, "Would you like some-"
"Thanks, but I've already eaten," he interjected as she brought the tea to an old dusty coffee table littered with dried flowers. Harry relaxed and sat down across from her.
They talked about the order and the most recent news known to the public about the whereabouts and activities of Voldemort and his Death Eaters.
"Well the good news is, if you can call it that, is that their have been no known plots or attacks on Order Members since Mr. Weasley. There have only been Muggle attacks. Last time the Order was always being hunted down…more so than the aurors-"
I feel useless." Harry cut in, "I don't' want to but I do." He stood up, "I can't laugh. I can't eat. All I want to do is fight, and DUMBLEDORE IS HOLDING ME BACK!" He took a deep breath and continued as though he'd been waiting years to say all of this. "Nothing matters anymore…friends, family. I used to always think about my parents…every decision I made I wondered if they'd approve, b-but I JUST DON'T CARE ANYMORE. I DON'T!"
Mrs. Figg's mouth was slightly opened in shock. Harry lowered his voice noticing this. "I feel broken…I'm not myself…I just want to kill him. I HATE HIM. I HATE HIM! And in the end only revenge well matter…only revenge will fix me- make everything right again."
"Harry," Ms. Figg said softly in her feeble voice, "In the end only kindness matters."
"I miss him! I miss him so much." Harry said weakly; looking her in the eye.
"Don't forget what you're fighting for Harry," she replied, calmly ignoring his grief.
"I'M FIGHTING FOR SIRIUS, FOR MY MUM AND DAD...FOR EVERYONE THAT BASTARD HAS KILLED!" He shouted angrily at her, slamming his fist down hard on the table, causing his tea to spill everywhere.
"No. No, Harry it seems to me that you are fighting for yourself, for your losses not your memories. You're fighting for your insecurities. That's wrong."
Ya. It is, is it? Then, WHAT THE HELL…" He was so angry, he was lost for words.
"You should be fighting for what is right," she stated simply, smiling.
He starred at her incredulously, hatred was rising fast inside him. The stupid woman! "Ya, and what is right?"
"It's what your parents had for you, it's what Sirius died for; the opposite of hatred and selfishness.
Harry stared at her, fury burning in his heart…was she calling HIM selfish and hateful? That old squib, that stupid bitch! What the hell did she know?
"Thanks for the tea," he said rather coldly and quickly left.
Once outside he walked aimlessly around the block and began pacing around panting. Had he really forgotten the reason for which he was fighting? "I'm not even fighting!" he yelled out loud angrily. "Am I even capable of feeling love anymore? What about kindness?"
"No," answered a happy voice in his head followed by very familiar, tormenting laughter. Hatred filled his heart as Voldemort's laugh intensified. "Clear you mind," he told himself.
He realized that he, himself was laughing along with Voldemort. He fell to his knees shaking. He starred up at the dark sky sprinkled with stars and a beautiful full moon. He thought of Remus and felt a lump rise in his throat. The laughter immediately died.
He yelled up to the sky, "If anyone's up there…God! God if you exist- I need you! I need strength!" He continued to yell at the silent dark sky, "Mum, Dad…what- what the hell am I doing? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." The lump in his throat was too much, it was choking him, he couldn't help but shed a few tears to relieve the pressure.
He sat there in the middle of the road for 20 minutes before he checked his watch and saw that it was ten minutes till midnight. He glanced once more at the sky and to his surprise saw a bright shooting star.
"I wish to feel love again," he whispered.
Twenty minutes later Harry was in his stuffy room ripping off his shirt to reveal a toned chest and arms. He glanced at the calendar he used to count down the days until he would return to Hogwarts; his 16th birthday was a week from today.
He collapse onto his bed thinking about the shooting star he seen. His eyelids were so heavy…the sounds of summer were all around him…he saw, or rather knew there was a girl lying in the damp grass behind a humongous house. She was starring at the stars and suddenly gasped, "a shooting star!" The girl stayed silent for a while, thinking hard. "I wish for happiness when I find the truth about you mom, the truth about me."
Harry woke suddenly with distant memories of the strangest, yet best dream he had had in a while. It didn't involve Sirius of Voldemort; that was all he could remember about it.
A thought suddenly penetrated
all other thoughts. He remembered what Voldemort had said, "I love
you like I love my daughter." Voldemort had a daughter!
PLEASE REVIEW You guys are awesome!
