Darkest Before Dawn

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related material are copyrighted to J. K. Rowling.
Summary: After a long disappearance over the summer, Harry returns to Hogwarts. Physically, at least.

Looks like unless you're already well known, it's hard to get a decent number of reviews. Blah. I'm content to use this as a test run though. I've got some better ideas saved for later for this one... the beginning is slow, I'll admit, but this time I'll cram two of my usual chapters into one and see if it looks better.

Oh, and I'll stop it with the depressing humorlessness. That's getting old even for me. I'm going to add some humor as soon as Harry finds out what's going on.

Let's get this thing rolling.

Chapter 3

The Confession

Harry's reliance on Hermione to distract the others must have worked, because nobody figured him out. The Hogwarts Express came to a jerky stop and all but Hermione left the compartment. As soon as she'd managed to shove the last straggler out, she slammed the door and scrambled toward Harry.

She pulled the robes off of his face. "We have ten minutes to get out of the train before it leaves with us still on."

He sat up and smiled innocently. "Yes, Professor Granger."

Hermione's mouth twitched, but she tried not to let her own smile through. She tossed the robes into his lap. "Get changing. I won't see anything."

Three minutes later they were out, Harry making sure to keep his face as invisible as he could. Both were being jostled too much to stay together easily, so Harry grabbed her shoulder gently and leaned in. "Don't tell anyone, 'Mione. I'll find you as soon as I can."

She leaned over and murmured, "Where are you going?"

There was a long pause. "Dumbledore's office."

"Try not to disappear for two months on your way there." Her nervous giggling betrayed her actual feelings.

They were approaching the carriages fast, and he knew it would probably not help for them to ride in the same one. He turned toward Hermione for a moment. Between the brim of his hat and the scarf wrapped around part of his face, he could see a single tear glistening along her cheek. Then the crowd split like a delta and she was gone.

With the hat pulled down over his eyes, nobody recognized him. The thestrals were still visible outside the carriages, filling the space that Harry had thought empty for many of his years at the school. They reared and snorted as he passed them. He spent a silent carriage trip with a couple of second-years who were smart enough not to talk to him. He kept his eyes closed the entire time, lest someone see his telltale irises. As the carriage rattled and bumped along the road to the front doors of the castle, he had time to reminisce. There'd be little of that later, he supposed, just more death.

The stagecoach stopped abruptly and the doors flung open. All the younger students practically leaped out. Harry exited last, blending into the black-clad crowd of children easily. However, he could not keep up the disguise if he were to sit down at a House table.

The Gryffindor head of house was waiting around a room down the hall from the doors of the Great Hall. She appeared to be waiting for the first years. Harry ducked out of the mass of students and headed for her.

"Excuse me, Professor?" Harry asked quietly.

McGonagall's catlike stare looked him over without recognition. "What is it?"

"I need to see the headmaster."

She squinted at him, still not figuring out who he was. "And why is that?"

He lifted the brim of his had slightly. McGonagall blanched, grabbed Harry around the wrist with her bony hand, and dragged him along the corridor and around a corner.

"Potter!" she hissed in an exasperated voice.

"It's a long story," Harry muttered. He looked down at the stone floor. "I need to see the headmaster."

"He will not be able to come until after the feast. Although I do think we ought to keep you out of the more populated areas of the school until then – people will think you've pulled a publicity stunt, thanks to the Daily Prophet and the slanderous garbage they keep printing. Even dead, you still made a scapegoat for some of those journalists."

He remained silent. They walked through hallways, up stairs, and around corners, until at last they came to the stone gargoyle outside of the headmaster's office.

"Pepper Imp," McGonagall said briskly.

It leapt aside and they walked through the split in the wall. The spiral staircase shot upward quickly. McGonagall looked agitated, and Harry couldn't blame her. Even in dim torchlight, the oak doors shimmered and sparkled. The teacher did not have to knock; the doors swung open and she pushed Harry into the dimly lit room.

"Take a seat, Potter. I'll tell the headmaster you're here, but believe me, it will be a while before he can come." She left, closing the door behind her. The deadly silence that filled the room was soon replaced by theatrical snores from the portraits of headmasters that covered the walls.

He pulled the pointed hat off his head and held it awkwardly at his side for a long while. His exhaustion soon sank into him, and he became dizzy with the effort of staying on his feet. Fawkes, Dumbledore's pet phoenix, was on his perch. He was staring at Harry, glowing slightly in the darkness. He appeared to have grown a lot over the summer from an ash-covered baby bird. With a sick feeling in his stomach, Harry remembered why Fawkes had become a baby again.

Harry sank into the chair in front of Dumbledore's desk. There were many pieces of parchment scattered across it, but he couldn't read any of them without light. He tried his best to stay focused, but there was nothing that could captivate him for long.

His thoughts were soon extinguished like a weak candle flame.

Harry opened his right eye, then closed it.

Too bright in here...

It took a minute for him to register where he was and why. He jumped as though stuck by a pin. "Professor Dumbledore! I –"

Sitting at the desk, swathed in mid-morning light, was Albus Dumbledore. The headmaster held a finger up to silence Harry. His expression was hard to read. Harry noticed that it was not particularly benevolent, but not angry either.

"Harry, I don't want to hear excuses for anything. You're alive, and that's more than many expected after your disappearance." He picked up a large green quill and dipped it into ink. His eyes were on the parchment in front of him, and not on Harry. "I do have a few questions for you, and likely some answers to yours. I'll go first. What happened to you over this summer?"

Harry took a deep breath, then told everything. "I got attacked by some Death Eaters outside the Dursley's. They knocked me out, and when I woke up they started trying to torture me with the unforgivables. I didn't have my wand, so I thought it was all over. But they couldn't land a single one on me. I had a– I don't know, some kind of green glow around me. It absorbed their curses and flung them back, then it just lashed out at all of them and constricted them." He winced at this point. He didn't like being reminded of it. "They were dead, and the glowing stopped. I was being held in a muggle building, so it wasn't hard to get out and find somewhere to hide. I didn't want to scare anyone, so I thought keeping a low profile until I got back to school would be simpler than accidentally setting that weird magic off again."

The quill had stopped moving, suspended above the parchment slightly. Dumbledore's eyes were filled with surprise. The headmaster was now very interested. "Do you remember if this aura was of your own doing? Did it seem like a shield spell?"

"No, it was definitely mine... I could feel it. That's why it bothered me so much." Harry looked down at his shoes as though they were the most interesting things he'd ever seen. His feelings of guilt did not diminish. He had a few of his own questions, though. "Professor, do you know what happened?"

With a smile, the old man nodded. "It seems you awakened the Magus powers within yourself."

DUN DUN DUNNNN...

The Numb Newt: Thanks!
LiLy MaLfOy13: I hope you keep reading, it'll only get better.
RedCat8: Sometimes fanfiction just scares me with its randomness.