A/N: Hey people! Wow, I didn't think I'd get such a response for my first story. I'm so happy. Usually I see people with only four or five reviews, but I got nine! Thank you all so much for reviewing. I mentioned everyone down in the author notes at the bottom. Keep the reviews coming, they inspire me to write faster.
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Harry Potter &co. I only like to borrow them for short periods of time, just to torture, manipulate, and bend them to my will, but they never belong to me and always return to the owner relatively unharmed, maybe a little worse for wear, but always intact . . . most of the time.
Yesterlife
Chapter One
The door war gently pushed open, with a loud, groaning creak that chilled Harry to his very bones. But since the electricity was out, Harry couldn't see a thing, but he knew there was someone in his room, he could hear the heavy breathing.
A terrible boom of thunder didn't make Harry flinch in the least, he was frozen in fear at the thing that had crept into his sanctuary, the vile creature that masqueraded as human by day and demon by night. A flash of lightening lit up the room for brief seconds, and Harry spied the boogeyman from his nightmares.
With an enraged roar, Harry heard the huge man rush at the bed on which he laid. And suddenly, the darkness wasn't the sanctuary that it had once been.
Harry squeezed his eyes shut, waiting with bated breath for the first blow, but amazingly enough, it didn't come. He strained his ears, trying to hear the sound of movement. He could barely make out the sound of soft breathing against the sound of the rain pounding against his window and nothing more.
Suddenly, the lamp in the corner flickered back to life. The electricity had returned, even though the storm was still in full swing.
Hesitantly, Harry squinted up at his would be attacker, blinking his eyes against the sudden intrusion of the light. His uncle stood stock-still above him, his fist balled and poised to strike, a crazed snarl marring his face. It only took a few moments to realize that his uncle had been petrified, and Harry was sure that he hadn't been the one to do it.
Minutes passed, and no Order members popped up, and neither did any Death Eaters show. Although, Harry reasoned with himself, Death Eaters more than likely wouldn't have stopped his uncle in the first place, so no worries there. Then Harry remembered something. When he was younger, he was always prone to small bouts of accidental magic when he was feeling an extreme amount of emotion, in this case fear. If he had accidentally apparated to the top of his primary school roof when he was being chased by Dudley and his gang, then he certainly well hoped he could petrify his lunatic of an uncle. Harry would have smacked himself had he not been so relieved at his realization.
Harry heaved a great sigh of relief. He was safe for the time being, but for who knows how long? Harry needed to find away to stay safe, and Harry could only think of one way. He would have to leave Privet Drive, take the Knight Bus to Grimmauld Place, and make up an excuse for the injuries, or either make Dumbledore swear on everything he holds dear not to tell a soul what that whale of a muggle had done to him.
Harry groaned as he sat up in his bed. He didn't want to face the Inquisition, but he still had some self preservation instincts, and right now they were screaming at him to get the hell out of there as fast as he could hobble, pride or not.
Harry heaved himself off the bed with a grunt, and limped slightly to the bathroom across the hall. He was thankful that his aunt had gone to bed already, and Dudley had gone to spend the weekend with a friend, no doubt drinking and vandalizing the neighborhood playgrounds.
Harry opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed a bottle of Tylenol. He struggled with the cap for a few minutes. "Damn child safety precautions," Harry grumbled to himself. Dudley could get the things off when he was only seven. He had been rushed to the emergency room when he had opened a bottle of cherry flavored medicine, thinking it was candy. They had to pump his stomach. Harry smiled slightly. He did have some good memories of life with the Dursleys.
Finally getting the cap off, he gently tapped two caplets out. He popped them into his mouth, and then stuck it under the faucet, not having a cup and having no desire to venture downstairs to get one. Thank Merlin for Tylenol. He pushed the bottle down into his baggy blue jeans pocket, which of course were too big and had to be tied with twine. He would need that bottle later.
Harry continued to rummage through the medicine cabinet, and to his utter joy he found the wrap that Dudley had used for his sprained ankle two summers ago. Stupid whale thought he could jump.
Wrapping his wrist up carefully, Harry applied the metal catches that kept the wrap in place. He hobbled back into his bedroom, grabbed his wand and invisibility cloak, and shooting one last wary glance at his prone uncle, he struggled down the stairs and to the front door.
He hoped that someone from the Order was on duty. That way he wouldn't have to worry about causing a stir on the Knight Bus. Harry stumbled slightly and caught himself with the door handle. Unlocking the door, he cracked it, fully intending to step out and close it behind him, when suddenly he heard about a dozen cracks, the telltale sound signifying apparation, however, Harry was sure that the wards Dumbledore had erected was supposed to keep people from apparating in.
Closing the door hastily and locking it, Harry stepped back from the door as quickly as he could manage, his heart pounding in his chest, the fear that had crippled him only a brief time ago was coming back full force. He hurried into the living room, and peaked out of the corner of the curtains.
"Bloody hell, I can't believe it. This could only happen to me," whispered Harry furiously to himself. What were the bloody chances of this happening now?
Twelve Death Eaters were out on his front lawn in the pouring rain, and it appeared that one was giving instruction to the others. The leader, by all appearances (even though they all looked the same), was gesturing wildly, and then he suddenly pointed at the house. Harry could barely make out the nods of agreement from the other Death Eaters through the pouring rain. Fear coursed through his blood, and Harry felt an overwhelming panic seize him.
He was in no condition to hold his own against a group of Death Eaters, and there was no way for him to contact the Order. He had sent Hedwig away earlier that week with one of his letters to the Order, and with the storm raging, she must have been delayed. He backed away from the window quickly, almost falling over the coffee table as he did so. He needed to find a place, any place to hide and now!
Frantically, his eyes searched for a hiding place, and suddenly they fell upon his prison for the first decade of his life. It didn't seem like such a horrible place now. Disregarding his injuries, Harry made a mad dash to the cupboard, swinging it open, and falling into the black prison of his childhood. He slammed the cupboard door shut, and tried to calm himself by breathing in deeply, although it didn't seem to be working. He hit his back against his trunk and winced.
Remembering his invisibility cloak, opened the trunk and he draped the cloak around himself, scooting into the far corner of the cupboard, and pulling his knees up to his chest. A burning sensation started at the back of his eyes, and Harry hastily wiped the forming tears away. He'd be damned if he started to cry. He buried his head in his knees. The Dursley's had never been very religious, and by defect, neither was Harry, but right now Harry was praying with all his might to whomever was up there to save him. It was the only thing he could do.
His heart beat seemed much louder than just seconds ago. He heard the Death Eaters trying the door handle, but Harry had locked it. A soft whispered alohamora reached Harry's ears, and the door creaked slowly open and then was shut. Harry suppressed a whimper of fear when he heard the many foot steps and the whispered voices. He was afraid that his heart would be too loud for him to hear what the Death Eaters would say, but his fears were soon unfounded.
"Crabbe! Goyle! That Figg woman said she was the only one on guard tonight. Go outside and keep watch just in case. We don't need any of those muggle loving dogs interfering!"
Harry heard the unmistakable grunts of acquiesce from Crabbe and Goyle Sr. and the front door opening and closing again. He pushed himself farther into the corner. If the Death Eaters had visited Mrs. Figg, then that mean that more in likely she wasn't alive anymore. Harry felt a wave of grief wash over him at the thought of his old babysitter's death. Who would take care of her cats?
"Avery! Nott! Check upstairs! Bring everyone in the house back downstairs for a little fun. Just don't hurt the Potter boy too much. Our Lord wants the joy of breaking the boy himself. The rest of you, stay with me."
"Right," said one of the two men going upstairs. Harry thought it might have been Nott, but he wasn't sure. He cringed as dust fell from the stairs and the two men made their way up. Harry could only imagine what "a little fun" was. Probably extended time under the Cruciatus curse. No matter how horribly the Dursley's had treated him, Harry had no desire to hear them being tortured and not being able to stop it.
Then Harry heard a voice, one that had haunted his nightmares and sent both overwhelming anger and fear coursing through his body.
"Our Lord won't mind if we play with the brat just a little. I've been so looking forward to making the boy scream," said the voice of Bellatrix Lestrange.
"Of course he won't Bellatrix. Just so long as the boy isn't driven into insanity, I see no problem with torturing him," said the silky voice of Malfoy Sr. Harry shivered. Malfoy must have been sprung from Azkaban.
Harry suddenly heard the sound of screaming. It was his Aunt Petunia. Harry felt the bottom of his stomach drop. He may not be particularly fond of his aunt, or fond at all, but he didn't want anyone to be hurt by Voldemort's henchmen. The shouting suddenly stopped when one of the Death Eaters from upstairs shouted, "Silencio!" It was silent once more.
Harry drew the cloak around himself tighter. What would the Death Eaters do when they realized he wasn't upstairs? Would they leave? He hoped they would. All he needed was a chance to get out of the house. He needed to get to Grimmauld Place by any means possible. Suddenly, there was a startled shout of surprise from upstairs. They apparently had found that he was missing.
"The Potter boy isn't here!" shouted one of the men as they both came hurriedly down the stairs.
"What do you mean he isn't here?" Malfoy shouted in anger and confusion. Harry heard an outraged cry of Bellatrix and the angry murmurs of the other Death Eaters.
"All we could find was the boy's aunt and uncle. His uncle was petrified in what appeared to be Potter's room. The muggle looked like he was in the middle of attacking something. It could have been the Potter boy."
The murmuring of the Death Eaters got louder. "SILENCE!" shouted Malfoy. The noise stopped immediately.
Malfoy cursed. "If the boy has used magic then the Ministry will be down on our heads within minutes!"
Harry hoped they would be here in minutes, but he wouldn't hold his breath. He wasn't sure if bursts of accidental magic would be easily picked up.
"Avery! I want you to kill the boy's relatives and then apparate back to headquarters! Wormtail! Return to our Lord and inform him of what has happened. The rest of you, out to the lawn! Start setting fire to the house! I want the fire charmed! It shouldn't be easy to extinguish! Bellatrix, cast the Dark Mark over the house! I want everyone to be out of here in under five minutes, now move!" shouted Malfoy.
The Death Eaters filtered out of the house, Avery heading upstairs. Harry peaked out of the venting on the cupboard door, and seeing no one, he quickly rushed out of the cupboard and as quietly as possible, ran to the backdoor in the kitchen, wincing as he put weight on his injured leg. Making sure that his cloak was still covering him, he opened the door and rushed out into the backyard. It was still raining, and the water seeped in through the cloak.
He scrambled through the bushes separating the Dursley's yard and the neighbors, remembering all the times he had done so in the past. However, Harry was running from a different gang altogether, even though they had the same goals: Put Potter in as much pain as possible.
He could hear the Death Eaters shouting spells from the Dursley's front lawn, and the smell of firer was teasing his nose. Suddenly a huge sickly green skull appeared in the sky over the now burning house. Harry continued to run, mindless of his injured leg, tripped, and found himself face down in a puddle of mud. He slammed his fist down, spraying mud on the impact. This was just not his night. With a heave of breath, he lifted himself up and continued his desparate escape.
He went though two more neighbor's yards before deciding it was probably safe to get to the sidewalk, and it would be easier to run on the sidewalk than in the muddied yards. He needed to get around the corner to safely call the Knight Bus. He hobbled painfully to the corner. It would be hard to miss the triple decker purple bus even if he was at least twelve houses away. Not seeing the raised crack in the sidewalk, Harry tripped and landed painfully against the pavement, his cloak slipping upwards and revealing his legs. Suddenly, he heard a high pitched, cruel laughter directly behind him.
"Well well well, look who I found. Why, it's wittle Potty out for a midnight stroll. Imagine how curious I was when I saw a pair of muddied footprints walking down the sidewalk. I'm so glad I let curiosity get the best of me. Look at who it led me to."
Harry was so overcome with panic that he tried to run, but his legs got caught in his cloak, and he fell back to the ground, and rolled unto his back, trying to see her. Cold laughter rang in his ears. Breathing hard from his exertion, he squinted his eyes. The rain splattered on his glasses, and the blurry image of Bellatrix Lestrange stood over him. He could just make out the insane grin upon her face.
"Poor little boy, can't even run properly. The Dark Lord will be pleased with me. I've caught him his prize. He shall honor me above all others once I bring you to him. But first, little boys need to be taught not to run from their fates! CRUCIO!"
Thousands of white hot knives pieced every inch of his skin. Liquid acid flowed through his blood, burning him inside out. Every nerve in his body was afire, his bones felt as if they were melting. He screams reverberated through the streets, mingling in with the sound of the rain pounding against the pavement.
And then as suddenly as it had started, it stopped, and all that Harry could feel was the lingering echo of that great pain, and the rain beating mercilessly against his body. Bellatrix laughed gleefully, and kicked him in the stomach, repeatedly, all the while shouting about his dead parents and bastard godfather among other such insults.
Harry started coughing up blood. Bellatrix stopped to laugh at this. "Poor child. Mummy and Daddy aren't here to save you now, and that sorry excuse of a Black that was your godfather is dead by my hand. It's time to meet your destiny Potter. You've been running from it for sixteen years, but it's finally caught up hasn't it!"
She gave him one more sharp kick to the stomach, and then hauled him up by his arm. In his hazy state, he was amazed that Bellatrix was strong enough to pick up his dead weight, because he certainly wasn't making an effort to get up.
"Say goodbye to the outside world Potter. It's the last time you'll ever be seeing it."
Harry felt a pulling on his navel, and he felt sick. Bellatrix had a portkey, and it didn't take a genius to figure out where she was taking him.
A/N: Well, there's the next chapter. Sorry it wasn't as long as I though it was going to be. I had meant to make it longer, but I decided that I'm rather fond to cliffhangers. At least when I write them. Anywho, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed once again! Expect another update either tomorrow if I have time or early next week. Drop a line and tell me what you think. Ciao!
Thanks to: Scottish Wish yea, I do have that problem. Thanks for your compliments! Niger Wolf Rector: It's right after fifth year, so he'd be just about to turn fifteen. Chiara Crawford: Thanks! LoonyLivesOn: Thanks! Virgina Riddle-Malfoy: Doesn't look like he'll be saved anytime soon, sorry! Moongypsie04: Well thanks! Rosie girl: Thanks! Yep, spelling isn't my strong suit. The Magic Bringer: Thanks! Love your story too! kagomepotter: Thanks! I love your name! And I love Inuyasha!