Thank You to all those who reviewed the prologue, and yes I know the prologue was short. This is longer.
CHAPTER 1: SWEET DREAMS OF DEATH
"Why didn't you save me?" were the words that ran through Harry's head a few days later. Until last night it had been 'Why did you kill me?' but things had changed and he didn't know why. Harry stopped walking, and sat down to rest by the river.
He'd been on the move for five days now and Harry, quite honestly, didn't know why he was bothering. It wasn't as if it would make any difference in the long run, he'd be dead soon and quite frankly he couldn't wait. It was the prospect of death that was keeping him going, a bitter irony. He was living for death. Harry didn't know what stopped him from another suicide attempt. It was probably the fear of getting caught, of it not working, if he were going to try again, it had to work. It was almost as if some supernatural force was keeping away from Privet Drive, well Harry know that the only reason he would return to the Dursley's would be to escape this hell. He certainly wasn't going to go back so Uncle Vernon could beat him, he wasn't that stupid. He knew his Uncle would refuse to kill him, and Harry was afraid that Aunt Petunia would try to prevent him from another suicide attempt. Of course he could break into another house, but he didn't want to add a break in to the murder he had already committed, it would only extend his time in hell.
Harry was quite looking forward to going to hell; it would be an improvement on this life, that was for certain. Nothing could be worse than the constant guilt, that consumed every fibre of his being or the taunts that echoed throughout his mind, memories of the nightmares that plagued him every night as he relived the events of the third task and the crime he had committed. Harry had forgotten what it was like to be happy, if he had ever been happy in the first place. It didn't really matter because happiness was an illusion, well except if you were dead. At this particular moment in time Harry was staring blankly at the river, wondering whether if he jumped in anyone would attempt to save him, and what it be like to drown, apart from glorious. A thin smile formed itself on Harry's drawn and depressed face as he dreamed of jumping in and drowning, without the interference of one of the many fishermen who were spaced across the opposite bank of the river.
"Pleasant thoughts." a voice said from behind him. He looked up briefly at the speaker to see a medium height man with black hair and brown eyes looking down at him as he stood underneath the shade of a tree.
"Yes." Harry said absently, trying to concentrate on his sweet dream of death.
"What about?" the voice seemed kind, and annoyingly familiar.
"Drowning." Harry replied, again with disinterest.
"Morbid." The stranger commented, "Life's not treating you well I assume."
"Only, because I deserve it. Murderers deserve the death penalty." Neither speaker seemed to be paying much attention to the conversation they were conducting. The stranger was studying Harry, whilst the boy gazed out into the river partially lost in his thought.
"Whatever makes you think you're a murderer." the man questioned If Harry had been paying attention to the man's tone of voice he would have noticed that the man seemed to be believe Harry wasn't a murderer.
"I led someone to their death." Harry tried to keep the guilt out of their voice.
"Did you know they were going to die?" the man responded
"No, but I should have. I was warned something would happen."
"You were warned that someone would die?" he questioned.
"No, that someone would try to kill me." his voice was beginning to break because of guilt.
"So, you brought this other guy along as a shield, so that they would kill him not you." Harry looked up at the man in horror at the mere suggestion. He was smirking. "Thought so. My knowledge of law is pretty good, and judging from what you told me, I doubt a jury would convict you of manslaughter let alone murder."
"It still doesn't change anything. Cedric's death was still my fault." Harry insisted inattentively.
"Try telling that to the dark lord. He's proud that he killed the boy." the man said emotionlessly. Harry starred at the man in horror convinced he was a death eater. The man gave a low chuckle. "No, I'm not a death eater although I do have connections." Harry didn't believe him but he didn't really care, he was beyond caring now.
"So? Cedric's death was still my fault." he repeated
"Sure, if you hadn't brought him along he wouldn't have died, but you didn't know what was going to happen. You don't when it comes to an ambush. You were partially responsible for his death through your stupidity. But anything else is survivor's guilt, and you should snap out of it. If you died, so would your godfather, while Voldemort would almost certainly win the war." Harry stared at the man open mouthed at the mention of Sirius.
"How…" he began
"How do I know about your godfather? That's irrelevant, but if you want to get in contact with me. My name is Harry, and don't use an owl other than your own." The man disapparated leaving a confused and bewildered Harry Potter, with a lot of thinking to do.
Harry was still alive a few weeks later, undoubtedly thanks to 'Harry'. Their meeting had begun the process of re-evaluation that he had been going through for the past two weeks. Of course there was also the need to survive, and for that he'd needed food and water, which he had to steal. On one occasion he'd managed to steal someone's wallet, and he still had some of the money left over. But generally he would waltz into the shop, steal as much as could and walk out again, before disappearing. He'd done it everyday for the past fortnight and he'd only been spotted once, and even then he'd been able to outrun the shop owner easily enough.
Harry was in a pretty bad state. He was dirty, thirsty, battered and still bruised from his week in hell. He was also a little hungry and fairly tired, but that was the price he had to pay for surviving. At least he wanted to survive now, and wasn't deluded into thinking that he had killed Cedric. In fact the stranger's words had been confirmed the next night when he had a vision of the death eater meeting, which had marked the return of Karkaroff.
"We have caught the coward, my Lord." The two men said as they grovelled in front of their master. Both were large and looked suspiciously like the elder Crabbe and Goyle. In between was Karkaroff, who looked distinctly worse for wear. He was tied up, and visibly shaking with fear. His normally pristine robes were soiled, and he looked ragged and unshaven, the bags under his eyes indicated a lack of sleep and he looked slightly thinner than usual.
"Well done," The serpentine voice of Voldemort hissed. "You shall be rewarded, for your success." The two men grovelled some more while thanking their masters as they crept back to join the circle of death eaters. The dark lord turned his attention to Karkaroff, "You have betrayed me and you know what the punishment for traitors."
"My Lord." Karkaroff stammered, "I remain loyal. I was afraid." He looked terrified.
"You do well to be afraid of me, Karkaroff." Voldemort sneered, "But I do not want my followers to be cowards. CRUCIO." Karkaroff writhed in pain; he was trying to avoid screaming, and failing miserably. "I haven't killed for a long time, Karkaroff, except for the Diggory boy and the muggle." he commented once he'd ended the curse, the threat clear in his voice.
The headmaster of Durmstrang cowered even more. "I would have died, if I'd remained in Azkaban. How can I serve you if I'm dead."
"Then you should have died." Voldemort shouted angrily, "CRUCIO." Again Karkaroff writhed under the Cruciatus Curse screaming in pain. It was a sickening sight. "Groenburg," the dark lord commanded turning to face a tall death eater after he had released the curse. "Karkaroff needs to be severely punished. See that you do it properly." Harry could almost sense then man's pleasure, and the fear of Karkaroff was obvious.
It was this that finally given Harry the will to live. If only to commit another murder, that of Voldemort. The sheer pleasure that he seemed to gain from the Cruciatus Curse was sickening. He had vowed to defeat the man that had killed his parents and made his life a misery, at any cost. Except perhaps the killing of innocents, but even then he wasn't sure. He knew Hermione would be horrified, but quite frankly he didn't care, she wasn't the one with a maniac dark lord after her blood. Only by killing by Voldemort would he survive, just as the only way to survive this summer was to steal. Again most of the Gryffindors would be horrified, after all stealing was always wrong, right? Well, wrong actually. It had come as a bit of shock to realise that nothing was quite as black and white as that, after all he'd believed that for his whole life. He'd realised that just about anything could be justified in the name of survival, or in the defeat of Voldemort for that matter. It was quite a Slytherin-esque attitude and quite frankly Harry didn't care. He wasn't quite as bad as a Slytherin in that respect, it wasn't as if he was going to start cheating at Quidditch, in the same way the Slytherins did. Nor was he evil, he didn't want to kill or injure people like a Death Eaters would, if however, anybody was hurt in the process of stopping the Death Eaters well that was too bad really. Naturally, Harry would try to avoid harming someone, as long as it was reasonable to do so, but it wasn't as if he would go out of his way to avoid injuring someone. He knew this sounded callous, but he was more concerned with the truth rather than emotion. Hermione would be horrified by his conclusions while Ron probably wouldn't understand, and if they stopped being friends with him, then they wouldn't be quite so high up Voldemort's target list. Harry had toyed with the idea of ending his friendship, but in the end he'd decided it wouldn't work. He had, however decided not to get a girlfriend or any more friends in case anything happened to them, when Voldemort used them to get to him.
And then there was Albus Dumbledore. With the benefit of hindsight it was painfully obvious to see the headmaster didn't actually care one jot about him, at least not personally. He was just some random kid who happened to be linked to Voldemort in the headmaster's eyes, and if anyone was to accuse Harry of being callous then perhaps they should read the headmaster's letters to the Dursley's, especially the second.
Dear Mr. And Mrs. Dursley,
It has come to my attention that you have been beating your nephew Harry Potter and whilst I have no objection to you physically punishing the boy, especially considering the events mentioned in my previous letter. I am concerned that you may be driving him towards suicide, or at least some form of severe depression. Following a letter the boy sent me dated the 8th July, I must emphasise that he must be kept alive at all costs and in reasonable condition as he is simply too valuable to lose. He is needed for the war effort, and without him the chances of Voldemort winning the war and as a consequence enslaving all non-magical folk are extremely high. I must stress that treating the boy in an acceptable manner is in your self-interest.
Albus Dumbledore
The first letter that the headmaster had sent wasn't much better, asking that the Dursley's go easy on Harry because of the third task and whilst Harry appreciated that he had tailored the tone of the letters so the Dursley's would follow them, it still showed he didn't care. Thinking back he had realised just how manipulative the old man was. He had had him wrapped around his little finger the moment Hagrid had come for him on his eleventh birthday, putting him with the Dursley's had been a masterstroke, it meant that he would be the one to introduce him to the wizarding world and he could instil all the prejudices, hatreds and the like that Gryffindors held. Harry also suspected that with a little more knowledge of the wizarding world Harry would almost certainly have followed the sorting hat's suggestion and become a Slytherin. Not that Harry wasn't happy to be a Gryffindor. If he weren't he would never have become friends with Ron and Hermione and there would have been the problem of many of his housemates supporting Voldemort. It was also amazing how little he'd been told, he knew very little about his father and absolutely nothing about his mother, except that she died for him and that she was once Head Girl. He suspected that there were some big secrets surrounding him and his parents that the headmaster didn't like. Well Harry was his own man now and wouldn't blindly follow the headmaster, however great he was. Harry also intended to do some research, to find out what exactly the headmaster wasn't telling him. There was just one thing he wanted to learn from the headmaster and that was how to manipulate whilst retaining a perfect image. Harry was famous, and it was time he put that fact to good use. So far his boy-who-lived status had only resulted in slander, stares and Voldemort, and it was time to let it give him a little bit of power as well.