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 2

It was hell, Harry decided. Pure and utter hell. He felt like he had been at it for days. Yes, of course he knew that his memories would affect him something terrible. But so much? His eyes felt like someone had grated sandpaper over them, they were raw and puffy from all the crying he had done. His voice was all but none-existent because of the screaming fits. He was dead tired and exhausted all over: physically, mentally and emotionally; not even taking into consideration the mind-blowing headache he had developed. He had known that he had not cried, not grieved for Cedric, for all the injustice done to himself, for all the people that had suffered and died in the war and most important: not for Sirius before this. And the worst, the ministry disaster, was still to be done. But the reactions he had shown made him dread those memories even more.

Some good had come out of the whole ordeal though. He knew now that he could have done nothing to prevent Cedrics death. Harry would have never been able to convince Cedric to take the Cup alone, but had he opted to take it all for himself instead, Cedric would most likely have done just that. The outcome was entirely the same. Cedric would have died either way he acted, had he gone alone they would have tortured him first because Harry wasn't there. Add to that the fact that he could not have known about the portkey… Harry hadn't even signed up for the Tournament, but couldn't just back out of it because of the magical contract involved or though he thought.

It never occurred to him back in fourth year that he was not bound, simply because he had not been the one to put his name in – hadn't even known of it – or that Dumbledore could have pulled him out at any given time, as magical contracts could be voided if all parties in it agreed. Madame Maxime and Karkaroff hadn't wanted him to compete and it came back to Dumbledore once again. To say he was becoming tired of the manipulations of the old coot was an understatement.

After the fight with Voldemort and the following the stunt with Crouch Jr. and Fudges incompetence he had blocked and buried it all. The isolation with the Dursleys hadn't helped in any way, shape or form because he had to watch himself, as the smallest bit of weakness was exploited without mercy by his family. Left alone even by his closest friends, he had needed a way to come through with his wits intact, forcing him to push his feelings deeper and deeper inside every time he felt threatened or out of control. These festering emotions left him with a fierce temper on a hairline trigger. Having worked through them now, Harry felt like a huge burden had finally been lifted off of him, but he also felt hollow and without even a spark of energy left.

He had managed to come to terms with Umbridge and vowed to have her brought to trial. Harry knew for a fact that he was not the only one she had tortured with that bloody quill of hers. What stung him the most, even in retrospect, was the abandonment he faced at the hands of the other teachers, most likely on Dumbledores orders. The old coot was not much of a surprise, though, he had acted like that all summer. Snape, well, there was another person that needed to be thought a lesson. The greasy git acted even more immature and arrogant than Harrys father had in Snapes memory.

'I wonder, just how he would react to that particular comparison,' Harry mused idly. 'That explosion I would love to see. If only I could get him to see the truth in it. Get him to see that I am not my father. He could be a formidable ally. Dumbles manipulates him just as much as me if not more.'

Knowing his fathers shortcomings was in a way a blessing for Harry. It brought his fathers image into focus more than any other thing he had ever been told about him. To know his father had flaws and had overcome some of them and matured enough for his mother to accept him was way better than the image of Saint Potter everyone else had painted. It made his father human.

The only memories left, were those of the fake vision, Sirius death, the possession and the prophecy. Harry couldn't bring himself to face them, it hurt too much. He needed a break before he would be able to tackle the most recent debacle. Ignoring the frozen pictures of the past, he once again wandered around the circular room he was in. To his surprise the labels on doors had changed. They seemed almost readable now. Would they be completely understandable when he had sorted through all of his memories? It was highly likely. He was curious what was behind those doors. Sighing, he went back to the middle of the room. If he was done and they were clear in their meaning, they still would have to wait until he felt a bit more rested. Swallowing, Harry turned face to his four worst memories.

'If I want to get through them, I need to watch and analyze them. That will be harder than anything else I did today.'

He wasn't sure if he could sit back and just let them happen. The memories however did not wait for his decision. They lined up and he was abruptly pulled into them. Absolute panic hit him again, when he thought Sirius to be in danger. Terror in the wake of Kreachers lies, helplessness in the face of Umbridges hate and Snapes apathy. Determination to rescue the only family he had ever cherished. Worry for his friends safety, surprise at seeing Sirius, pure horror at his fall through the veil. Unimaginable pain when Voldemort was in his head, boundless rage at Dumbledore and the prophecy. The last few days in Hogwarts were hazy at best.

Sure, he had used his emotions as fuel to get trough the days and function. But that was the sole reason he hadn't broken down earlier. He had scoured the library for useful books, because he needed something to focus on if he wanted to get through the days while Ron and Hermione were in the hospital wing and the summer. It had worked, Harry knew, but the Dursleys bombshell had been the absolute last straw for his strained psyche.

Tears were streaming down his face again, his sobs muffled by his hands. Letting finally go, Harry curled up on the floor and cried himself into a much needed sleep. He was not aware of the changes around him. As he faded out of his mind and back to reality the room around him was altered. Gone was the dreary atmosphere, light flooded inside as the walls and ceiling became transparent, the plaques on each and every door stated now in clear script what was found behind them. Cushions and a low table appeared in one corner and a warm, welcome feeling spread. Back in his room, Harry curled up in his sleep, finally free of nightmares for the first time in more than two years, waking only a for few minutes to switch out the lights around the house.

It was early in the next morning when Harry was woken by the sunlight tickling his nose. He felt rested and full of energy after a good nights sleep. Blinking his eyes open, he realized that he was curled around a dirty robe. For a few moments he waited to be hit by his emotions like a sledgehammer but nothing happened. The torrent of emotions he experienced before was simply not there. He felt a deep grief for Sirius, but only time could heal that particular wound. The ache would probably always be there. A foreign peace had come over him and he knew without a doubt that his feelings had been dealt with. It was a good feeling not to be tied down by the past anymore. Stretching he got up to take a shower.

When he came back, his hair still wet, he drank some of the orange juice he had brought last night. Rummaging around his trunk he found the envelope with cash his uncle had mentioned, there were about 2.500 pounds in there. Taking 200 he slipped out of the bathrobe and into some clean clothes, which were shrunk to fit him. Mentally he made a list of what he would need to buy. A new supermarket had opened a few blocks away, it hadn't been ready when he left last summer. It was inside the edge of the outer wards Dumbledore had put up, as the blood protection wards only enclosed the property of 4 Privet Drive, so he would not sound the alarm by leaving the wards. A slight commotion outside caught his attention. After a low pop a harsh voice could be heard.

"Fletcher! Get up! Merlin, sleeping in a drunken state on duty. Again! How Dumbledore could put you on guard after the fiasco last year is beyond me."

Mad-eye Moody had arrived and Harry started.

'Shit! If he takes one look through the house, he will find out about the Dursleys absence. I need to… that could work.'

Harry barreled down the stairs, calmed himself and stepped out of the front door. The key had also been in the envelope. Listening to the ongoing argument a bit, he interrupted them eventually.

"Good morning to you too, Mundungus, Professor Moody. It is a fine morning to wake up to the two of you fighting."

The incredulous silence had him smirking. Turning around he began walking towards the street, only to be stopped by Moody.

"I told you not to call me that! Call me Mad-eye or Moody, but leave that Professor-business well alone. A good morning to you as well. Tell me, lad, were do you think you are going?"

As Harry turned to face Moody, Dung mumbled something and apparated away.

Calmly looking at Moody he said: "Shopping. There is next to nothing edible left in the house and my aunt told me, that if I do the shopping, I get to decide what I want to cook and decent amounts of food. Only, I have to do lots of vegetables and fruit, because Dudley isn't allowed so much fat and sugar any more."

Watching Moody expression closely, he spoke up again when it went thunderous.

"And before you go storming in there: yes, I have cooked for them in the past. But normally I didn't get anything other than leftovers. Now I get to cook as much for myself as for them and my aunt is a terrible cook. She doesn't even manage to cook water without it boiling over, which I had thought to be impossible. When I'm at school there is no cooking, only sandwiches and the like as it is only my uncle and aunt. On weekends they order take out or go out to eat in a restaurant. Besides, I need something to do."

Looking pacified for the moment Moody continued questioning Harry.

"Didn't Dumbledore tell you not to leave the house? You shouldn't even be out here, much less going shopping."

"No. He told me not to leave the wards. The new supermarket is inside of them, so there isn't a problem. If that isn't enough for you, you are welcome to accompany me. I could use the help to get every thing in one go. Otherwise I might have to go twice, maybe even three times. I can only carry so much, you know?"

Harrys voice was flat. When Moodys expression turned into a frown he did a mental victory dance.

'Gotcha. Couldn't have your little pawn traipsing around the neighborhood alone, huh? And when we get back your shift will be over and it's late enough that my uncle, aunt and cousin could have already left the house and you know I'm safe and sound. I'm a genius.'

"Of course I'm coming with you. If you have your arms full, you're an even bigger target than every other time. Constant vigilance is useless if you can't react to threat."

Moody began muttering to himself about idiots and attention and had to do an almost run to catch up to Harry, who had walked away. Shrouded in an invisibility cloak he followed him down the street.

Harry had hoped that he would find a good variety of things in the market and he wasn't disappointed. They had virtually everything in good quality. There was even a bakery, a stationery shop and a pharmacy located in the building. Internally he jumped with joy. On the outside, he looked like someone had killed his pet. Downtrodden, unhappy and weighed down by an invisible burden. He hadn't had a need to think before he had started acting, it had come as a instinctive reaction.

'Maybe my Slytherin side is finally coming out.'

"Hey, Mad-eye, are you coming in with me? Because if you do, you should ditch the cloak and put a glamourie on. It's really crowded in there."

With that final advice Harry stepped inside and got a shopping cart, not waiting for an answer.

About two and a half hours later he had a cart full of almost overflowing shopping bags filled with vegetable and fruit, cheese and sausage, pasta and milk, coke and an assortment of different juices and various other things. Stopping to get fresh bread and a couple of rolls he looked at the older man beside him.

"Watch the cart, will you? I just have to make a final stop to get some pens, ink, some writing pads, ring binders and notebooks. Could you maybe put lightweight and levitating charms on the bags? Otherwise we'll never get them home alone."

At Moodys consternated look he shrugged.

"If I were allowed to do it myself, I would. And I want to get home. It is a bit too crowded here for my tastes."

"You're awfully demanding this morning, laddie. Every other person in any other situation I would have long since chewed out. But you have more than enough on your plate as it is. And you are right, we should get you back as soon as humanly possible. It isn't safe out here. We should be there when my shift is ending. But you should work on your attitude, my lad."

15 minutes later Harry came out of the stationery with another shopping bag. The unlikely duo got rid of the cart and began the slow track back to Privet Drive, loaded with bags. When they finally arrived Tonks was already waiting for them, pacing the drive restlessly – and fully visible. Once again her hair was bubblegum pink. Just as they approached her, she stumbled over her own feet and sent all three of them crashing to the floor. Thinking of the eggs he bought, Harry looked at the bags. They were hovering about a quarter of an inch above the earth. Trying to extricate himself from the pile of limbs and bodies, he came face to face with Tonks.

"Wotcher, Harry. How are you? And were have you been?"

She rambled on: "You know you shouldn't leave the house. Something could have happened. It is too dangerous for you out there alone. You could have been kidnapped, or…"

Lifting an eyebrow, Harry climbed to his feet and began to bring the bags inside, completely ignoring Tonks and Mad-eye, who at this point had finally managed to stand up. When Tonks noticed Moody, her monologue took a different tune.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, sir. I didn't see you there. Did you hurt yourself? I was just so worried and…"

Coming back outside for the last two bags, Harry heard what she said and, at the look on Moodys face, he broke out in a laughing fit. Tonks fussing over a glamoured Moody, thinking obviously he was a muggle was too funny, especially with the murderous fury that graced Moodys face.

"Nymphadora Tonks! You will stop this infernal babbling this instant! Have you gone completely stark raving mad? Are you trying to garner attention? Don't you have any common sense? You're an auror. Act like it!"

The baffled and affronted look on Tonks face sent Harry into renewed laughter.

"Uhm… Excuse me, sir, do I know you? I do not think we have met. And Harry, stop laughing like a madman. This is not funny in the least."

"The… hahaha… the look… on your… haha… faces. I…it's just… too… hahaha… comical. Can… cancel the glamourie."

The light-bulbs over both their heads were almost visible.

And while the glamourie faded, Moody addressed Tonks: "You know that you have to practice constant vigilance, Auror Tonks! Why were you surprised when we showed up?"

Tonks eyes bulged out and she went ashen.

"M… Mad-eye? I… you…eeep!"

She fainted, which only resulted in Harry laughing harder. Sending him a sharp look, Moody went and revived Tonks, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly.

"Enervate. Fainting, Auror Tonks? On top of everything else, you faint when surprised? How you ever got through training is a mystery to me. Get in gear and on post. We'll talk about that later. Laddie? The spells will end when I apparate, got it? I'll see you. And remember, constant…"

"… vigilance, I know, sir. Bye."

A soft pop later Harry was alone with Tonks. He lifted the two bags up and walked up to the front-door, where he looked at Tonks.

"You know, something could nest in there, if you don't close your mouth soon."

"Harry? Why weren't you here when I came? Dumbledore told you not to leave the house!"

"No, Tonks, he did not. He said not to leave the wards. The new supermarket is inside the wards and I even asked Mad-eye to come with me. The shopping needed to be done, there's practically nothing edible left and my relatives aren't here at the moment. Uncle Vernon is at work, Dudley is hanging out with his friends and Aunt Petunia decided to do a spa day. 'Sides, I get to cook what I want for doing it. Have a nice day, Tonks. Rest assured, I will leave the house if I want to at any given time."

The door shut behind him with a bang, leaving Tonks utterly speechless on the front lawn.

Sighing heavily, Harry put the last things away. That morning had been strenuous. But, he had managed to avoid suspicion by Moody. The food problem was solved, as was the problem with the cooking utensils. Luckily for him there had been a sale of quality pots and pans. He had also acquired some plastic cutlery and paper plates, which had already been transfigured into stainless steel and china respectively. Matter changes were some of the easiest transformation they had learned. The idea had hit him, as soon as he laid eyes on the packages arranged in a picnic basket. It solved his problem nicely, as they wouldn't revert back to their original shape like some other things – precious metals in particular. Transfigured gold would dissolve into its natural shape only seconds after the transfiguration. Which was why the sorcerers stone was such a huge deal.

With all the junk the Dursleys had left him, it meant that he wouldn't have to buy nearly as much as he thought he would. He only needed to remain close to original matter and he would be fine. He could make a bed-frame out of a splinter if need be. It would still be a good deal of work, though.

Venturing into his room, his eyes fell once again on the torn robe. Harry shook his head. He would repair and clean it. It was still usable and the memories… they weren't triggered anymore. Taking it into his hands he shook it out to get a good look at it. Something silvery fell out of its folds and landed on the floor with a clang. Surprised, Harry put the robe down and moved to pick the object up. It reminded him slightly of the time-turner Hermione had used in third year. The hourglass shape and the sand were there, but the rest…. He examined it closer. Maybe they it was a more advanced model?

'Ahh. There is an inscription. What does it say?'

Engraved in tiny letters was One turn, one day, three at most.

'So you can go back only a full day and not just a few hours, huh? And only three days in one go? I wonder… Can you go back a month in three-day intervals? Could I save Sirius?'

Harry's thoughts went into a frenzy, only to be calmed down at the telltale crackling of magic around him.

'If it is possible, it can wait. If it isn't, then I couldn't do anything about it, anyway. I have accepted his death. But it would have been nice to have him back. It solves my problem about leaving the wards without anyone the wiser quiet nicely, though. I'll go back tomorrow morning at nine, the time when Moody and I were a block down the street this morning. Coming back here wont be a problem, if I do some yard-work in the evening today. That should give me ample time in Diagon Alley and muggle-London.'

Reverently Harry set the time-turner on his bed. Casting scourgify and reparo on his robe, then he put it in his trunk. After that he walked down into the basement, looking for some wood to make a table and some chairs from. Half an hour later he was sitting in a comfortable chair, leaning over a writing pad. On the stove a pot of freshly made tomato sauce bubbled merrily alongside a pot of spaghetti. On the pad was a blueprint like drawing of number 4 next to a larger one. This one was the outcome of the remodeling Harry had in mind. The rooms would be shuffled around a bit and enlarged. The master bedroom would be his with a connection to the bathroom, Dudleys and his room would become a guest quarters with bathroom, each. The same went for the former guest room.

In the basement one room would be the library with a study. The muggle books alone would warrant that, but together with the books he copied in the Hogwarts library and the ones he would buy in Diagon Alley a place for them was sorely needed. A potions laboratory and a dueling room would fit in nicely, too. Not to forget a good training room with muggle work-out equipment. If he ever had muggles in his house, they were out of the way.

The livingroom would become a comfy den with TV-set and stereo system and the kitchen would give a homely feel instead of the current clinical one. And the cupboard would make a nice storage area. What he would do with the attic remained to be seen.

Abandoning his list and drawings, he got his lunch of the stove and onto a plate. Munching away happily, he was soon lost in thought.

'I'll need some books on magical decoration and remodeling to get everything the way I want it. Also, I need some good potions books. I'm good at cooking, so why not in potions? That greasy git can't teach worth a single knut. Hmm. Transfiguration, because we haven't learnt all things I'll need and charms, household charms in particular. Dueling and DADA 'cause of Voldie, rituals too. Dark magic? Might be useful to know what I'm up against. Arithmancy and Runes? Mione said they play a huge role in spell development and wards. Meaning, I will need them. Maybe something on jobs and laws? I don't want to be an auror if I have to listen to those IQ-challenged idiots in the ministry. Knowing your rights is always useful. Hmm.'

All the while scribbling away on his pad, still eating.

Having finished his meal, Harry went to the fridge and got some strawberries out. After washing them they were sat on the table on a plate. Viewing the list of book topics he decided to add healing and parseltongue as well as magical theory. If you knew the how and why things were always easier. He briefly wondered why there wasn't a theory class at Hogwarts.

'Some history textbooks on something other than goblin rebellions, a compendium on pureblood families and a bit on animagi. Maybe some muggle biology and chemistry books? I wonder what would happen if you combine potions and chemistry? Would the explosions just get bigger, or could there be something useful? On that note: I need potions ingredients and new scales. Some books on electricity and some novels. And a bit about magic in other cultures. Those egyptian curse Bill talks about sound interesting. Are there devices or charms to learn other languages?'

Snacking on the strawberries, Harry compiled a list with a good deal of things he needed to buy, things he needed to transfigure and charm once the remodeling was done and things he needed to do to outwit Dumbledore. After he had written down everything he could think of, he put the dirty dishes in the sink and cleaned them. Looking at the once again sparkling kitchen, he nodded to himself and wandered out into the yard. The first thing he did was mowing the lawn, after that he weeded the garden well into the evening. It did him a lot of good to simply work outside in the sun, problems forgotten for little while. Especially if he wasn't forced to do it by the Dursleys.

Upload date: 4-18-05