Harry Potter and the New Start: In the Arms of Evil

Hello and thanks so much to all of the reviewers. You all definitely helped during the hell of midterms. They're over now, obviously, and I've been both busy and lazy. But, your update has arrived, so enjoy!

This is supposed to be within day or two of the last chapter, just to give you an idea.

-Unknown-

Harry Potter had never known pain or fear. Save their day in Diagon Alley, he'd never been away from his loving godfather, and had never had a cause to be truly terrified. The worst injuries of his short life included a lightening bolt cut on his forehead and a few scraped knees.

He lived in a world that was safe and unthreatening. His home was his and no one else could ever corrupt it. His safety had never been an issue or a question in his mind, because he knew that no harm could come to him. He had a place of his own that was unknown to the rest of the world, and a godfather who would do anything possible to keep him happy, healthy and safe.

But as he sat in the cold dark room that he'd never seen before in his life, all those feelings shattered and faded away until Harry was sure that he would never be happy or safe again.

The man that had stolen him away was one he now recognized to be none other than Peter Pettigrew. Harry could tell it was him, he seemed so rat like that it was hard to miss. Sirius had even shown him a picture of the four marauders once before. It was almost scary just how far the man was caught between his teenage looks and a rat-like persona.

The rat in him was winning out.

Peter had all but dragged Harry by his hair to get him there. Harry had kicked, screamed and fought the whole way, but the man was bigger than him by far. They had apparated away, and then appeared before the house they were now in. It looked awful from the outside, but it had proven to be even worse inside. He had been thrown into the room that he now sat in and had been there for quite some time.

How long Harry did not know, the windows had been charmed shut so no light could get in, and Harry could not get out.

He had been crying for a long time, but now the tears seemed spent. He was hungry, as the man hadn't brought him anything to eat in a long time. And he was tired, because he couldn't sleep in this room, even if there was a bed. It had to have been someone's bedroom, though it was clear that it hadn't been used in a long time. The dust and cobwebs were thick in the air.

Harry was sitting in the far corner of the room, his little body tensely pressed against the wall with his knees drawn up. He had been there the entire time, never moving an inch or relaxing for even a second. It was the farthest away from the door that he could possibly get.

Never before in his life had he wanted to see Sirius more.

He wanted his godfather back. But he had seen Sirius fall when the piece of the ceiling had hit him over the head. Harry was more terrified for Sirius than he was himself. If Sirius had been hurt badly, who would be able to help him? There was no one else who would ever help Sirius after what they thought he'd done. That scared him beyond belief. He couldn't lose Sirius, he just couldn't.

His mind was coming up with elaborate fantasies about Sirius breaking down the door and grabbing him. They would run right through the hallways and get past Wormtail, because Sirius could beat him in a fair fight any day. Especially if it were to save Harry. Nothing else needed to happen, just so long as he got to leave the room and the house.

The house had something sinister about it - Harry could feel it.

He couldn't ever imagine someone living in something that felt of pure evil. If it were his home, he wouldn't have been able to sleep or even breathe easy inside of it. He would be afraid to be alone in such a house. It was nothing like his own home. Emeralds' Palace was good and bright and happy. There was nothing wrong or bad about it. It was his home, and he wished he could go back.

A creak sounded by his doorway, and Harry tensed up even further, if it were possible. The house regularly creaked and made all sorts of noises, but he still grew even more afraid each time.

This time he had a cause though, the door opened.

There was no light in the hallway, and Harry was sure that Wormtail saw so well because he had an animal's night vision. The man never said anything, and Harry never said anything much either. Through his squinting, Harry could make out the shape of a tray being held and then set down. There wouldn't be anything very good on it, just probably the same bit of bread and soup that Harry had rejected last time, it hardly passed for food.

It might have been food, but he didn't want to eat it, no matter how hungry he was. There could be something wrong with it. And former Marauder or no, Harry didn't think it would be as harmless as a prank waiting in his meal. There could be some awful poison that would kill him, or a bad potion that would make him tell everyone where Sirius was. And then their home would be discovered even more, and Sirius would be taken away. If he wasn't already dead, of course. Harry squeezed his eyes shut in a vain attempt to stop the line of thinking that his mind was on.

When he opened his eyes, it seemed that Wormtail had turned to leave, but something in Harry made him speak. The thought of Peter having hurt Sirius so badly was ringing in his mind and filling him up with anger. He just hoped he wouldn't get in trouble for speaking. "Where are we?" he yelled, his little voice equal parts fierce and afraid. It trembled, and Harry hoped that Wormtail would interpret that shaking as anger, not fear.

The man stopped dead in his tracks. He looked shocked that Harry had spoken. Short of the screams of anger and resistance that Harry had thrown forward when he was being dragged to the house, he hadn't said a word. The man had probably never heard Harry's voice in a normal speaking way. He looked so surprised that Harry was sure that if he ran up and pushed Wormtail, he would fall forward like a pile of bricks. He managed to stop himself, however. Speaking was one thing, getting up and putting himself in striking range was quite another.

Slowly, the man turned around. Harry's eyes were getting better at making out his moving form, and as more time went by in the darkness, his eyes were getting more used to it. When he had first been put in there, it seemed that he was blind, everything was so dark.

Peter appeared to be contemplating responding to him. He actually looked a bit afraid of Harry. "You don't need to know." He settled on saying finally, his voice a mere squeak.

"Let me go home." Harry stated firmly with the stubbornness that only a child – more importantly, the child of Lily and James Potter – could posses. This man was afraid of him. Though Harry was still terrified, the thought helped him some. It was something he could hold on to, because everything else in his life was so uncertain at the moment, even Sirius.

Instead of answering that, the man stared at him a bit more before turning around to leave. Harry fought the urge to go after him. Before Wormtail reached the door, however, he stopped. Without turning, he muttered, "It won't matter why you're here soon enough."

Harry felt his eyes go wide as the air rushed from his lungs. He knew what that meant.

He knew exactly what that meant.

Short chapter, I know. The next one is much longer. In fact, I think you'll all rather like the next one.

I hope you all enjoyed it! Let me know what you think, also if anyone has an idea as to where they are.

Stars Enchantress