Chapter 2: The Letters

As Harry stepped back from the doorway, Fred and George Weasley beamed as they walked forward. It looked as though a small forest fire was spreading through the entrance to his room.

"Hiya Harry!" Fred exclaimed happily. Harry just nodded and sat down on his bed.

"How're you doing, mate? George asked. Harry just shrugged. He decided to close himself up. It was the safest thing to do. He could not put them in danger, hurt them by caring. Harry knew that he should not say a word; it would be easier not to care that way. As soon as he decided on it, though, Harry temporarily ignored this philosophy as he realized that they might be taking him somewhere. Harry looked up quickly.

"What happened? Why are you here?" Harry was becoming slightly panicked.

"Calm down, Harry. Nothing happened. We just came by to visit you."

"And… er… experiment with some of our latest products."

"Oh." Harry said simply, relieved, yet worried at the same time. Why wasn't Voldemort doing anything?

Fred and George had stayed for many hours. They told him about their latest sweets, Sniveling Snapes. They were gummy figurines of the professor that bawled when you called them names. Harry thought that Sirius would have loved them. A lump formed in his throat as he cursed himself for thinking about that.

The twins asked Harry many questions, but after the initial conversation, Harry said nothing. He was embarrassed and ashamed of his actions. He could not look into their eyes. When he did, he saw what he knew was pity. He didn't want their pity. He'd rather they hate him than pity him. It was easier to hate them back. He could deal with hatred. Pity threw him off.

Fred and George told Harry of their business, which, they were proud to say, was booming. "Every midget mischief-maker in London has a WWW bag!" George had exclaimed smugly. Harry had not replied.

Seemingly unfazed by Harry's silence, the pair went on telling him about everything going on at 12 Grimmauld Place, where, Harry learned, the entire Weasley clan was staying. Ron and Hermione were, apparently, bickering as much as ever. It was, as Fred said, "driving the Order mad, completely bonkers!" According to them, Moody had crushed his glass during a particular argument over which side of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich should have the jelly.

After an awkward hour of one-sided conversation, a burst of light appeared in front of George replaced by a single phoenix feather. Harry stood quickly. He knew that the warning was from Dumbledore. Fred opened his mouth to say something, but George beat him to it.

"We've got to go. Dumbledore's called a meeting. Harry, we want you to know that it's not your fault." Harry's eyes narrowed. He had been waiting for this speech. It wasn't his fault - right.

"Nobody blames you. It was V-Voldemort." Fred added

"Ron and Hermione told us to tell you that you should talk to them. Hermione almost blew a gasket when she read your letters to the Order. "I'm fine" doesn't seem to cut it for her." George continued.

"Ginny didn't approve either. Let's just say she needed four Order members to restrain her from walking to Surrey by herself." Harry smiled slightly, but neither of the twins saw it.

"And even then she gave them a hard time. Kingsley still has the bruise to show for it."

"Well, bye then." Fred said as he opened the window.

"See you, Harry." George cried, swinging his leg over the window ledge. With that, the two left. Harry watched their flaming red hair until they disappeared entirely. They had Disapparated.

The visit from the twins had not cheered Harry in the slightest. He was as miserable as ever. Nobody blamed him, sure. Did they think he was completely unaware of what was going on outside the walls of his room? Did they think he didn't get the Daily Prophet every day? Was it assumed that he didn't read every word, that he didn't understand every article questioning his motives, even his sanity? Just yesterday the Prophet had printed an article entitled Harry: Help or Hindrance? Harry had read the short piece that was underneath the sullen picture of himself.

Harry: Help or Hindrance?

By R. Smith

Throughout the past years, members of the wizarding world have put faith in Harry Potter. He has been widely known as our savior, the "hero" who will save us from You-Know-Who. Recently, though, witches and wizards across the world are beginning to doubt the Boy-Who-Lived. "Potter has been spiraling down into depression-like states," says a friend. "He seems to be losing his sanity. He hallucinates and just the other day went wandering down the lane looking for his parents." It is alarming to think that the person we have rested our fate on is not right in the mind. We have been blinded by our need of a rescuer and come up with the delusion that Harry Potter is one. Perhaps Potter is no more than a fake feigning a hero. Maybe our so-called protector is nothing more than a silly little boy playing a game with our lives and the lives of our loved ones. So before you place any more devotion on Harry Potter, stop to think about who the boy really is and whose side he is on.

Harry had not been angry when he read the piece of writing. Instead, he had felt as if it were true. Maybe he was playing a game with others' lives. Maybe they did not need him. Perhaps he could just walk into the muggle world, leave this one behind, and let them find another savior. But as these thoughts passed through Harry's mind, he knew they were untrue. The prophecy ensured that Harry was the one. He had to kill Voldemort or be killed by him, there was no other way. Harry shuddered when the thought of killing someone crossed his mind.

Harry walked to his desk, gazing sadly at the cage again, when Hedwig flew in. Harry leaped out of the way of the owl. She was carrying a letter from Tonks. Harry untied it from her leg and ripped it open. It was his usual letter. He scanned the page, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

Dear Harry,

How have you been lately? Fred and George want you to know that they are expanding the idea of Sniveling Snapes. They are making Hogwarts Havoc Helpers. I feel for those teachers. I just wanted to check in on you. If you don't send a letter back by tomorrow, we're coming for you. Everyone here is worried about you. You'll be happy to know that Kreacher died yesterday. I didn't mind that much. I didn't mind at all, actually. Filthy little- Remus just reminded me that I am writing to you and that I shouldn't curse. Well, now that he's gone... Darn. My conscience is kicking in. Did you smile? You should. Hermione had a fit at Ron's behavior. He "accidentally" jumped for joy when he found a certain dead elf underneath the furnace. Those two will never get a clue, will they? Don't tell them I said that. Well, hope to hear from you soon.

-Tonks

Harry did smile at Tonks' letter, but it was not the smile she was hoping for. It was cold, hateful smile. He did not think Tonks' joke was funny. He was happy that that thing, that vile, foul thing, was dead. The lying traitor deserved to die. He killed Sirius. He told Voldemort about how much Harry cared for him. He told Harry that Sirius was not in Grimmauld Place, when he was. He, along with Harry, had murdered Sirius.

Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Remus Lupin (who told Harry to call him Moony), Mrs. Weasley, Fred and George, Tonks, and even Dung had sent him letters over the summer. All of their letters were basically the same. They all told him that Sirius' death was not his fault. The letters did nothing to console Harry. Harry felt that they were not necessary. He didn't need therapists. He was a big boy now. He could take care of himself.

Harry was jostled from his stupor by three owls tapping on his window pane. He rose from his bed, wondering who they were from. Harry tore open the first letter. It was from Dumbledore.

Harry-

Don't do anything. Stay at your aunt's house. No matter what you hear, don't move. I will notify you soon.

-A.D.

Harry's heart felt as if it had stopped. His hand trembling, he opened the next letter. This one was from Ron and Hermione.

Dear Harry,

LISTEN TO US! Don't do anything dumb. Stay where you are. Please!

From,

Ron & Hermione

Harry felt as if he had been hit by a truck. What happened? Why were they sending him these? Why would he do something rash? Was everyone okay? What was going on? Panic bubbled through every cell in his body. Harry felt lightheaded, filled with a terror he hadn't felt since the night at the Department of Mysteries. Harry's mouth dropped open as he read the final letter. He couldn't believe it. It couldn't be. Anything but that! Harry's shaking hand held the final letter. He bit his lip, immensely worried. His eyes hastily shot across the page.

Harry-

I'm not supposed to tell you this, but I know you would if the situation was switched. I'm so scared. They took Mom. Take care of yourself.

-Gin

A/N: Muchas gracias to Kaity and Miss Radcliffe, my AWESOME betas! You guys rock!