Unexpected events

By Zakairen

Disclaimer: You people know the works: I don't own them, I don't make money with it, only the plot's mine.

Warning: English is not my mother language. There may be some spelling and grammar errors. Please point it out if something is seriously wrong.

"blah" - talking, 'blah' - thinking, italics - spells, quotations and writing, "blah" - parseltongue

Chapter 1

The first thing he noticed was the silence. Complete and utter silence. Something that for some reason irked him to no end. As if that silence was something that did not belong to… where ever he was. Had never resided in this place before or at least not like this. Then, ever so slowly, his other senses came back to him. Smell was first. It smelled… clean. So clean in fact, that there was absolutely no dust tickling his nose and the only other thing seemed to a be light citrus scent wafting in the warm air. Next came touch. Warm air, flowing around him like a lovers touch. That couldn't be right – or could it? Never had a breeze done that to him before, he was somehow sure of it. It indicated an open space, though. Or at least an open window.

'But if there was an open window, wouldn't I hear something, like, children playing? And in an open space in nature this quiet, wouldn't there at least be some rustling leaves or chirping birds?' he marvelled. 'Well, only one way to find out. I will have to look, won't I?'

Darkness. No light to be seen anywhere. Apart from the strange, reddish glow.

'Oh! Note to self: need to open eyes before trying to see next time, could be useful and spare me another almost heart attack. Oh well… .'

There. A huge room completely empty, no furniture, no trinkets, not even curtains in front of the closed windows. The light that flooded in was tinted pink, curtsey of the sunset. Two doors were leading from the room, one opposite of him and the other right next to him. That explained the breeze. Looking through the doorway, he saw a corridor leading to a small wardrobe beside the front door and a set of stairs leading up to a second floor. And in the middle of entrance area was a big wooden trunk.

A sharp gasp marked the exact moment his memories came back. Thankful that he had remained sitting, Harry sighed deeply. Somehow he felt a bit out of it, not to mention jelly-legged. How could so many things of so much importance to his life happen in that little amount of time? Normally things like this only happened to him when he was in the wizarding world, not when he was isolated in the muggle world. The simple fact that he had been practically knocked out because of the emotional chaos he was in had him shivering.

After deciding not to think too much about it for the moment, Harry settled on his course of action: first he would look around the house to evaluate just what his relatives had left him and what he needed to purchase, then he would look through those papers and sign the emancipation ones, secure in the knowledge that Dumbledore wouldn't know about them and his relatives leaving, due to the fact that the order guard would only be up around now. Before it was only Mrs. Figg making sure that he arrived safe and sound from Kings Cross. He overheard Dumbledore telling her about an indicator-stone that was charmed to give of an alarm if his presence was not noticed inside the wards. She wouldn't have watched long enough to actually notice they had gone. After that he would compose some lists for his coming purchases and the remodeling he wanted to do around the house, because leaving it as it was now was simply out of question. It reminded him too much of his miserable childhood. And finally he would have to really face the recent events and his emotions concerning them.

Sighing again, Harry slowly tried to stand up and, after some wobbling in place, managed to make his way into the kitchen. Just to be surprised again, as the kitchen remained almost the way he remembered it from last year. The only difference were the missing table and chairs, Dudley's TV wasn't there anymore and – he opened the kitchen cupboards – the dishes and cutlery as well as the cooking utensils were missing. But the fridge, the sink, the stove and oven were still there, for all the good that would do without something to cook or to cook in. It seemed, he would have to make an extended shopping trip for more than just a few groceries - as soon as he had taken a look at the whole house that is.

He ignored the papers on the counter and walked slowly out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Looking through the rooms he had to fight a snicker when he reached his and Dudleys rooms.

"Left anything Dudley didn't want or had broken at one time or another indeed," he muttered

The rooms were of course devoid of any furniture and looked more like a dump than anything else. Broken game systems, games, a computer, CDs and two TVs sat on the floor accompanied by stacks of books that Dudley had never even looked at and various other things. Still shaking his head in amusement Harry stepped first into the guestroom then the master bedroom, only to find them as empty as the livingroom. The bathroom though was to his delight in the same condition as the kitchen, all facilities usable. Looking up to the hatch that led to the attic he frowned and turned right around walking down to the basement instead. He just wasn't ready for that… yet.

Most of the basement was also empty, but there were two exception. One was a new set of a washing machine and dryer, the other a mess of junk that the Dursleys simply hadn't bothered to sort through and throw away.

'No surprise there,' Harry mused idly. 'But why on earth did they leave these machines here. Especially as new as they are? Well, no use thinking about it. I have other things to do.'

Taking one last look around he decided to leave the mess for a later sorting and headed to the kitchen yet again. Sweeping all papers and parchment scrolls up, he relocated to the still light flooded livingroom to read them.

While he was leafing through the emancipation papers he found a small notice with his name on it attached to them, from the lawyer. It explained in detail why nobody in the magical world would be informed of his emancipation.

'Huh. Interesting. So, documents pertaining muggle info on muggle-borns as well as muggle-raised wizards and witches is magically collected and filed as classified information, as well as being doused with secrecy charms. If a change of status like mine occurs, only the responsible employee of the department for underage magic is informed so that the premature self-destruction of the detection-globe can be observed and confirmed. Instead of it self-destructing at the coming-of-age of the person in question. And as the detection is off, other charms linked to the globe and the individuals magic are equally out of commission so that no other person needs to (or can) be informed as it is obvious, simply because the charms do not interfere any more and don't set the underage-detectors all the shops have off. Well, you have to give them one thing: that is really quiet ingenious. Of course it was thought up long before Fudge came into power.'

Standing up, Harry put the papers on the floor next to him and left the room to get his trunk. Searching through it, he pulled a quill and an inkwell out and - after some fiddling – signed the papers with a flourish using his trunk as a desk. Glowing for a moment they vanished into thin air and a moment later a thick folder appeared. Inside he found another message from the lawyer, stating that the folder contained an ID-card, a copy of his parents will and all information pertaining the assets of the Potter Estate and the investments that had been made.

'Wait a moment. What assets? I already know of my parents vault, I mean, I've been using it. Or did Dumbledore… Well, no matter, I will know soon just what they all hid from me. Mmmh… Uhuh… WHAT! He will inform the Goblins. But why? Ohhh… Access to the FAMILY VAULT? And the secrecy is still in action. So I can expect an evaluation to be send to me? Ah, I need to go to Diagon Alley anyways, maybe I can pick it up then. It wouldn't surprise me if Dumbledore screened my mail.'

Harry skimmed through the folder, then put it aside to read the scrolls on the blood protection wards. Frowning he looked at a small puddle of ink that had dribbled out of his quill onto his trunk.

'I really need to buy some muggle pens. They are easier to write with and they do not leak like these bloody quills. Maybe I could put a charm or two on them… to never run out of ink? You can buy quills with those… I really need to keep my concentration on the matter at hand.'

When he finished the scrolls the sun had fully set and he had switched on the light because it became to dark to read without it. The information he gathered throughout his quest had sent him reeling again. What he himself suspected and his Aunt had confirmed, wasn't even half of it. The fact that he could have lived with just about anybody or even alone he had already know from before. The fact that the wards were diminished by the mutual feelings of hatred he and his relatives shared, as well as his contempt to actually have to be 'home' was also known to him. But the fact that the wards would have been even stronger, if he had been allowed to live with his godfather – or someone approved by Sirius – because of the magical bond between godparent and godchild was entirely new.

Not to speak of the wards that surrounded him wherever he went, centered on his very person – if the wards were strong enough in the first place that is. Or the temporary establishment of another set of blood wards around every place he stayed at for longer then three days for as long as he was there, like Hogwarts. And linked to that the fact that with the wards at full available strength Voldemort wouldn't have been able to come near him or Hogwarts in first, second, fourth and fifth year. Thankfully Voldemort couldn't get through them with the blood they shared due to resurrection ritual, because it was too mixed with Wormtails blood and his own. The wards would have protected him even from the bastards tries of manipulating and possessing him through his scar.

Looking at all the things he discovered, it almost seemed like Dumbledore had purposely tried to decrease the strength of the wards every possible way short of destroying them. Oh how right he had been, when he told his Aunt that they cut the strings by which his live was directed. Harry felt a fury rise inside like he had never known before. Every single encounter he had had with Voldemort had been utterly unnecessary! His isolation in the muggle world after the Dark Lords downfall and during holidays, not being allowed to Diagon Alley, the Order guards and Occlumency lessons – unnecessary. All the hell he had been through had not only been because of Voldemort, but had been purposely set up by the master puppeteer Dumbledore. He could feel his magic crackling around him, like it had when he destroyed the Headmasters Office.

Thinking of the Order guards again he tried to calm down. It wouldn't do to give them a show and have them report to the old man and have him notice the lack of underage magic warnings. Harry managed to slowly even his breathing out. Getting all riled up over something he could not change wouldn't do him any good. If he managed to stay calm, maybe he could get around the old coot without him noticing. Frowning at the derogatory path his thoughts were taking he finally shrugged.

'Oh well. It's not as if he can hear it now or doesn't deserve it. But he is an expert at Legilimency. I will have to study Occlumency seriously if I want to keep it that way.'

With a deep sigh Harry put the scrolls in his trunk for safekeeping. He had absolutely no intention of letting anybody know of his knowing that information. It would come in handy later, that much he was sure of. The folder and addresses went right along with them. Taking one look through the window he noticed how late it was. All the shops would already be closed and he would have to wait until tomorrow to buy anything at all. As he hadn't drawn up any of the lists he wanted that was fine with him, but it also meant he would go hungry this evening. Maybe his relatives had left him something edible?

Wandering into the kitchen he switched on the light and headed for the fridge and found to his surprise that it was stocked with milk, orange and apple juice, some cheese, some vegetables and half a loaf of bread. Taking out the bread, cheese and orange juice along with a couple of tomatoes he shut the refrigerator and walked back into the living room, where he stood for moment before he put everything in his trunk. Then he hefted the trunk up and trudged slowly to his room. Leaving the lights on to make the house seem inhabited, he even remembered to switch the ones in Dudleys room on, too.

In his room he had to clear a spot on the floor for his trunk first before he could set it down. Picking the bread and cheese out of his trunk Harry looked around while he ate, categorizing the junk that had been left by the Dursleys and taking a swig of the orange juice occasionally. When he was down in the basement earlier he had seen some folded up cardboard boxes and decided to put the books away in those first. They would be heavy, no doubt, but they would also make a good makeshift bed if he could transfigure something into a mattress. When he was done with that, he'd put everything else in Dudleys room sorting it along the way into rubbish and salvageable things. After all, he could just reparo most of it to get a good start on some entertainment electronics and Dudley had broken more than others had to begin with. The waste would be put into bags, to stuff them in the bucket later, and everything else would be packed into boxes too, to be stored away for usage at a later time.

Done eating, Harry fetched the boxes and began gathering all the books and putting them away. The first ten were already in the box when his gaze fell on his wand and he groaned. He could just magic the books into the boxes, he didn't have to do it all by hand. After Tonks had messed the packing charm up last summer, Harry had gotten interested and looked it up in the library. Learning that this particular charm acted on clearly directed intention he understood why Tonks messed up, as scatterbrained as she oftentimes was. The intention part was the same for all magic, but normally one had a precise incantation to focus that intention and did not have to concentrate so much. The packing charm lacked the precise incantation because there were often many different things to be packed. The incantation acted more like a trigger than anything else. Declaring the charm useful, Harry had tried it until he could do it even without the trigger, only with a flick of his wand he got everything he intended packed up in orderly fashion.

It would be the first magic he did after signing the emancipation papers. Focusing on stacking all the books apart from those in his trunk in the boxes he flicked his wand at the books and they started flying into the boxes one after the other. Harry had even managed to include the books that were still in Dudleys room, they came through the doorway between the two rooms that had been installed because Diddydums doesn't want to go through the corridor to get to his second room and closed up with closets from both sides when Harry got the room. As no more books came, Harry waited until the last book was in a box and ended the charm. Then he waited, staring out of the window. When after 20 minutes still no ministry owl had come, he knew for sure that all had gone well and he now was an adult wizard, able to finally use his magic freely. Fudge would not be able to drag him into another trial for underage use of magic. How someone who was born with magic could be forbidden from actively using it was a mystery to Harry.

'Supervision is understandable, but prohibition?'

Well, no use puzzling over it. It didn't concern him any longer.

Feeling suddenly a tad bit lonely he thought about Hedwig. He had left his trusty owl back at Hogwarts and told her – before boarding the train - to come find him the next day in the evening. It was done mostly because he had had a weird feeling about bringing her home with his family again, his relatives always had a bad reaction to her – but also because Hedwig despised the train and car rides in her rather narrow cage. She was jostled around quiet a bit and bumped into the bars numerous times, causing her to prefer flying above all else. Harry grinned. Hedwigs disgruntled expression on such occasions always extracted a laugh from him, even at the most strenuous of times. He had shrunk her cage and used a charm keyed to a password to be able to resize and re-shrink it again without actively using magic to get around the ban, simply because her cage was unwieldy and in the way if he had to lug around. The whole affair was done easier this way.

Harry had done something else, too, because Hedwig was rather unique in her coloring. He had put a notice-me-not charm on her, making it selective so that the owner and the recipient of a letter were the only ones not affected. It had taken him weeks until he figured out how to do that without causing her harm, but it had also resulted in his trunk and various other pieces of his belongings being charmed that way. At first he had wanted to disillusion her or change her color, but had thought better of it after a little background information. The change in color could easily be permanent and result in his friends being suspicious of an alien owl, and the disillusionment charm was magically draining, as well as being too noticeable to a person with a fine-tuned magical awareness, because of the power behind it, and it was countered in many wards. In the end he had only seen to it that she was not noticed or remembered and put a charm on her that disrupted tracking spells before automatically canceling them a while later. He was rather proud of himself. Of course, that had been in the beginning of the year, before it all went to hell in a hand-basket.

Going back to the boxes he closed several full ones up and labeled them all with the help of his wand. Then he levitated the rest of the items out of his and into Dudleys room, not caring in the least about the additional mess he was creating, even if he was the one who had to look through it later. In the now mostly empty confines of his room he pushed some of the boxes together to get a platform. Only needing a mattress now, Harry began digging around in his trunk for some of Dudleys oldest hand-me-downs – located at the very bottom of the trunk, throwing some of his textbooks, most of his robes and a few trinkets on the floor beside him. When he finally got a hold of them, he threw them on the makeshift platform changing them into one big piece of cloth first, then transfiguring that into a mattress, something they had learned before they began with animate to inanimate stuff. Other clothes were made into a sheet, a light blanket and pillow. Looking at his new bed, Harry felt proud of himself despite it having no frame. He had managed to get a practical use out of his transfiguration skills.

Not wanting to have to deal with the mess he created not too long ago in the morning, he began picking up his things. He did not want to resort to doing even the tiniest things with his magic like those purebloods did.

'When they don't leave it for the house elves to do, that is.'

Harry grimaced at the thought. He could almost hear Hermione babbling on and on about S.P.E.W., not even considering other peoples opinions or stopping. As much as he liked her, some things went too far. He left the other hand-me-downs out for later use and went for the last thing left: a small package of dark fabric. Stumped, he went to collect the strange thing. He only recognized it after picking it up. It was the robe he had worn on the evening of the ministry-disaster, still dirty, torn and bloodied. He started shaking softly, but soon had to sit down because it got worse with ever minute.

Until now Harry had carefully distracted himself and avoided the matter altogether. Being reminded of those memories rather abruptly, they overwhelmed him and there was absolutely nothing he could do against it. That he had already been weakened by the emotional rush earlier did nothing to help him, the whole matter was only worsened because he was totally out of his own control. The memories assaulting him felt like poisonous darts to his already overly tired mind, the overall sensation was more like falling into a chaotic pensieve than viewing a memory normally before his minds eye. Images and random pieces of his memories continued to literally spin around him in a weird dance as his physical body slumped over in a black out for the second time that day. His mental self however cowered on the floor trying to shield himself from his own memories.

As time went on Harry began to slowly notice that, while the memories were still spinning around him, they had ceased to dive-bomb him at any given opportunity. Uncurling, he stood up. It took a moment to realize his surroundings and another few to finally understand that he stood in his own mind like it was any other room in the house. Just how this feat came to be he didn't know, but right now it did not matter. He felt weird somehow, as if a huge burden had been lifted off of him. Not knowing what better to do, he mustered the courage to ignore the carousel of pictures around him to take stock of the room he was obviously in. It was huge with a vaulted ceiling and a number of doors leading of to who-knows-were. Noticing labels on the doors Harry walked around but had to admit defeat, as could not read the strange signs they were composed of. Finally daring to take a closer look at his memories, the spinning slowed down to a stop, leaving him surrounded by snap-shots of recent and not-so-recent events.

All of them were only fragments of past happenings which, Harry theorized, he would have to sort through and connect, to get a whole memory.

"No time like the present, huh? I don't ever want to go through that again, so I better deal with it here and now. Maybe… Maybe I will even get a full nights worth of sleep out of it, not being plagued by nightmares and guilt."

But even saying it out loud in the confines of his mind, it sounded weak and unsure to him. Harry did not want to do this. On the other hand: should something like this happen again and with a little luck in the presence of others or, even better, an Order member he would be totally screwed. And if there were Death Eaters anywhere near him, he would be dead without further notice.

It would be a tedious process, only looking at them made him almost physically ill and he would have to scrutinize every tiny, little bit he came across. Shuddering, he began to look for a starting point, the earliest memory part present. When he found it, Harry was not a happy camper: it was the end of the Third Task, before Cedric and him touched the Cup, more than a year ago. A years worth of the worst memories possible and he would have confront them. Sure, deep down he knew that he had not dealt with any of it, just pushed it deeper inside with every new event, letting it fester. Which had led to scary nightmares, immeasurable amounts of guilt and, to make matters worse, a rather short temper. He knew without a doubt that he had been destroying himself, but with all the pressure what could and should he have done? His relatives were not even remotely interested, his friends could never understand him and had shut him out before he could try to make them – only to try and pry later on, Dumbledore ignored him, the other teachers left him to fend for himself, Umbridge was part of the problem and Sirius and Remus weren't available.

Sighing, he tried to calculate the amount of time he would need, but came up short. Each and every single one of those memory fragments would affect his emotions something fierce. Harry could already guess, that the perceived time of his mind had nothing to do with the normal concept of time in the physical world. It could be seconds or days before woke up again and there was nothing he could do about it. Taking another look at his memories, he decided to take as much time as he needed to get the whole mess sorted out. Then he could focus all his thoughts on the future without being held back by a past that he couldn't change anyway. And maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't have to dream about his parents, Cedric and Sirius accusing him of killing them again.

Upload date: 4-15-05