Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I asked for it for Christmas - no such luck.

Key:

"Talking,"

'Thinking,'

"Parseltongue,"


Harry Potter and the Secrets Within

Chapter 1 – Grieving and the Attack

Harry's parents were dead. They were long, long dead. He'd never gotten to know them, only heard the stories from everyone else. His parents were wonderful people, carefree, living life to the fullest.

Beautiful Lily, with her sparkling green eyes.

Handsome James, with unruly black hair and charming smile.

The perfect couple.

But now they were dead. And Harry was alone.

Harry's godfather was also dead. Just recently, he had died in the Department of Mysteries, attempting to save Harry's life. They tried to save his life. His pitiful life. They'd all attempted.

And they'd all died.

He'd gotten letters from his friends, Ron and Hermione, telling him it would be okay. He didn't know if he could believe them though.

"BOY!" his uncle, Vernon Dursley shouted at him. "Get down here. Now!"

Harry sighed heavily and heaved himself off of his bed. He crossed the floor of his small bedroom, kicking a few stray clothes on his way. He headed down the stairs and into the kitchen, looking especially skinny in the extra baggy clothes he wore. He'd gotten much thinner over the summer, letting his grieving get the better of him.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon?" he asked as he entered. Said uncle, a beefy, red faced man, looked up from the newspaper he was reading and scowled at Harry.

"Boy, you've been in your bedroom moping enough. I want you outside, now! Go, weed the garden! Don't come back inside until you've finished!" he growled. Harry's shoulders sagged but he did as he was told. He fell to his knees outside and stared at the dead plants in his Aunt's garden.

Suddenly angry, he yanked out everything viciously. When he was done, he wiped away furious tears and took a deep breath. He gathered the weeds and threw tem in the garbage bin in front of the house. He stopped to look around, just watching. Normal Privet Drive, as usual. A few girls sat in lawn chairs across the street, watching him interestedly while sipping pink lemonade. They waved cheerily and he gave a weak smile and a small wave before going inside again. His uncle glared at him.

"Finished already?" he spat.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry answered dully.

"Then go back outside and plant the new flowers in the garage. I want them neat, I want them orderly, and I don't want any screw ups. Do you hear me, boy?" he threatened.

"Yes sir," Harry whispered.

"Do it properly, or no dinner," his uncle warned.

"Yes sir," Harry repeated. He was forcefully shoved out the back door, and then it slammed loudly. He winced at the noise but started his assigned work.

After about an hour of work, he sat back on his legs, wiping sweat from his brow. The sun beat down on him harshly as he worked. He stiffened suddenly, hearing a soft rustle behind him. He turned slowly, cautiously, and stared at the bush nearest him as though it would attack any second.

No more sound came from the shrub. He slowly turned back around and began working again. It was almost dark when he finally finished. He collapsed onto the cool grass and closed his eyes. As he worked, his mind had been set on his project. Now that he was done, his mind wandered back to Sirius.

He closed his eyes firmly and let out a deep sigh. His hands found their way under his head, and he relaxed.

But he could definitely here it now.

More rustling and soft voices from the same bushes. His eyes darted toward it but away quickly. He clenched his eyes shut tightly and waited. His breath caught in his throat when the little amount of sun that was left disappeared, being replaced by a large man's shadow. He opened his eyes slowly.

"What do you think you're doing?" Vernon hissed at him. He reached down and roughly dragged Harry to his feet by his shirtfront. Harry stumbled as he was violently pulled into the kitchen.

"Sleeping outside! What the neighbors will say…" Vernon ranted, changing his grip from Harry's shirt to the back of his neck. Harry winced, arching his back in effort to get away. Vernon ranted on and on, dragging Harry up the stairs and into the small bedroom. He threw Harry down on the bed and glowered at him menacingly.

"I told you not to pull anything stupid!" Vernon growled.

"Uncle Vernon –," Harry started, but Vernon cut him off.

"Don't speak unless you're spoken to!" he snapped, his face reddening rapidly. Harry shrank back slightly and said nothing.

"You are to stay in this room for the rest of the summer! You will not come out unless you are told, understood?" Vernon growled. Harry nodded sullenly.

"Yes sir," he said quietly.

"Good," Vernon said. He exited the room, locking the many locks outside the door before leaving entirely. Harry sat on his bed, staring down at his hands for a long time. The room got totally dark, only lit by the soft glow of the moon.

He looked up at a light tapping on his barred window. Hedwig landed gracefully on a tree branch and watched him expectantly. He went over to the window and gazed at her longingly. He pressed his hands against the glass and watched her.

"Get help, Hedwig. I have a bad feeling," he whispered to her. She seemed to hear him through the thick glass, for she took off into the sky. He rubbed the scar on his forehead absentmindedly, as if trying to ease the pain that wouldn't go away.

He wasn't worried about his uncle. Vernon just had an overactive anger problem. He wouldn't dare do anything. His scar tingled mercilessly, and his lack of nightmares made him nervous. Would the Order come if Hedwig returned with an unopened letter?

Suddenly cold, he staggered over to his bed and pulled the thin sheet around himself tightly. He shivered slightly, but all he had was the thin cloth to keep him warm. He soon fell into a restless sleep.


He woke up shortly after, still shivering. Why the hell was it so cold? He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes with shaky hands, wondering what had woken him up.

"I'm not sick," he whispered to himself, putting a hand to his forehead. "Why is it so cold?"

His breath fluttered visibly in front of his face. His teeth chattered and his ears were ringing. Voices echoed in his ears and he remembered the feeling. He snatched his wand off the bedside table, his eyes widening.

Dementors.

Lots of them. He saw them, coming down the street in a large pack. Every light on Privet Drive went out as they passed. A group of black cloaked figures were ahead of them, leading the way.

Death Eaters.

And in the lead, taller than all the rest, was Voldemort. Harry's scar seared with pain as they got closer, and he fell backwards. He scrambled across the floor, getting to his feet hastily and tugging on the door. His breath hitched when the door wouldn't budge.

He rammed his shoulder against the door, trying to knock it down. He shouted to his uncle and aunt, desperate.

"Let me out of here!" he cried. "Let me out!"

He heard heavy footsteps approaching and his uncle banged on the other side of the door.

"Shut up! Shut up!" he snapped.

"What is it, Vernon?" Petunia's voice asked sleepily. "Why is it so cold?"

"Let me out, Uncle Vernon, please!" Harry begged.

"Shut up, boy!" Vernon responded.

"Aunt Petunia, please! The Dementors, they're here!" Harry cried. "Let me out! If you don't let me out you'll all die!"

"Oh dear!" Petunia gasped. She hurriedly shoved Vernon out of the way and Harry heard the clicks and turns of the locks and the door was flung open. He ran past the two, not even taking a glance. He stomped down the stairs and into the sitting room, where he knelt down on the couch and peered out the window. He cried out in surprise when his eyes met a pair of bright blue ones. The front door opened and Remus Lupin entered, followed by Arthur Weasley and Albus Dumbledore.

"Professor, what's going on?" Harry demanded. "How did they find me? I thought you said the wards would protect the Dursley's house!"

"I know, Harry. I don't know how they found you, but you need to leave here as soon as possible," Dumbledore said.

"Remus, take Harry, get his things," he went on. "Arthur, contact Molly by Floo, tell her Harry is on the way. The Order will be here shortly."

As if on cue, there were several pops and the room was filled with members of the Order of the Phoenix. Remus put a hand on Harry's shoulder and carefully led him upstairs. They passed his aunt and uncle as they went into his bedroom, closing the door halfway. Remus turned and looked at Harry seriously as they gathered clothes.

"Harry," he said. Harry looked up from his trunk. "You don't look well. How have you been holding up?" Remus himself didn't look well. His eyes were bloodshot and his skin was pale.

"I'm okay," he said, clearing his throat and holding back tears that threatened to fall. "What about you?"

"I'm worried about you Harry," Remus answered. Harry crawled under the bed and pried up the loose floorboard, taking out his pillowcase of cards and birthday presents, and his photo album. He put the pillowcase into his trunk and closed it firmly. He met Remus's eyes for the first time that night. Remus frowned and walked over to him, brushing his fingers over the darkish bruise on the back of his neck.

"What is this, Harry?" he asked. Harry shook his head.

"It's nothing, Uncle Vernon and I had a slight misunderstanding," Harry said calmly. Remus didn't look happy with his answer, and opened his mouth to say so, but Harry stooped him.

"There's no reason to worry about me, Remus," he said with a weak smile. He took Remus's hand and allowed himself to be helped to his feet. They stared at each other for a few moments, when suddenly the house began to shake. Screams sounded from downstairs and the front door was blown open.

The Order shouted curses in retaliation. Remus's wide eyes met Harry's and both reached for their wands. Harry slammed the door closed and pushed his bureau in front of it, then turned to face the older man.

"Harry, take this," Remus said quickly, taking a fine chained necklace from his pocket and putting it around Harry's neck, fastening it securely. He put his hands on both sides of Harry's neck and forced him to look into his eyes.

"Remus, what –?" Harry started, pulling away slightly, but Remus cut him off.

"Harry, listen to me," he growled, jerking Harry's face to look at him. "This necklace belonged to Sirius. He wanted you to have it. He wanted you to use it in case of emergencies, and to never let it get into the wrong hands."

"Remus, I don't understand," Harry said, his voice wavering in fear.

"Harry," Remus said forcefully. "This will take you to a safe place. I don't know where it is or when I will see you again, but when you get there, do not leave until I arrive, do you understand?"

"I do," Harry whispered. Someone was forcefully banging on the door and the bureau was shaking.

"Go now Harry," Remus said. "Just hold the jewel and say Portus and you'll get there." Harry looked up at Remus fearfully.

"Come with me," he begged.

"I can't, Harry. I have to stay," Remus replied.

"No! You have to come with me! I can't lose you!" Harry cried, not stopping the tears running down his cheeks. Remus wiped them away gently with his thumb and looked deeply into the boy's eyes.

"I promise you, Harry," he said. "I promise: I will come for you. No matter what it takes, I will find you. I won't leave you alone."

"Remus," Harry sobbed brokenly. "You're all I have left. I don't want you to leave me too."

"I'll be there Harry, I promise," Remus said, pulling him close and embracing him tightly. Harry returned the embrace gratefully, crying into Remus's torn robes. "And I never break a promise."

"I'll wait for you," Harry said, pulling away reluctantly. "Don't you dare let me down." He took hold of his trunk and gave a last pleading look to Remus, who shook his head. He took the shimmering green jewel in his hand and took a deep breath.

"Portus," he breathed. The last thing he saw before the Portkey worked was the dresser being blown to pieces and Remus covering his face with his arms to avoid the shrapnel. Harry released the jewel and made to move toward Remus, but there was a tug behind his navel and he was pulled away from Privet Drive.


Where has the Portkey taken Harry?

Find out in Chapter 2!