Chapter One

River Jacobson

Harry Potter sat on his windowsill, staring out his window at the brilliantly blue sky that had scattered fluffy white clouds in it. He didn't think it was right that a day could be so calm and peaceful, that everyone's lives could be so perfect when everything wasn't. Hedwig was sitting in her cage, staring at him sadly through the open door. Being the only creature that didn't cringe at the sight of him in the house, he didn't mind her company but he hadn't spoken much since his rival to Privet Drive, in fact, the only times he did speak was when he needed to leave his room.

He only ventured out of his room maybe twice (once in the morning and once towards night) a day to do two things: use the restroom and get food. Other than taunting from Dudley at his constant nightmares his so-called 'family' avoided him. Vernon forced him to help with the chores around the house every other day and Harry normally did them without complaint, looking for any sort of distraction from his constant pain. When he got in trouble he took the punishments without a sound. He had gotten Sirius killed and whatever his uncle had planned for him to do he would take it as a punishment, whether he did something wrong or not, Harry didn't care anymore. He deserved it.

His stomach let a small growl at him causing Harry to sigh and shut the window. Hedwig hooed at him as he reached in and stroked her chest with his face blank of all emotion. He shut the cage door without a word and she let out another hoo as he walked out of his room. Another change this summer was that his family didn't lock the doors during the day unless one of two things happened: he had done something they considered bad the day before or one of them was having guests. At night no matter what, the door's locks were locked, all nine of them.

He chuckled to himself as he shuffled into the restroom. As if he'd have anywhere to go at night, he had heard from Hermione a few times since school had let out and from Ron twice. Hermione was sending him words of encouragement two or three times a week but he had stopped opening her letters after the first two weeks. Ron had to go through some 'special training-thing' because of the brains that had latched onto him in the Department of Mysteries. Apparently they had downloaded information into his head and the Ministry Officials were helping him sort through it. He hadn't written to either of them more than two or three words for the last two in half weeks, ever since school ended.

Harry shut the door to the restroom and locked it to be safe. He set his glasses down on the counter top before turning on the water in the sink. He splashed the cool water on his face, washing the stains of his tears off the thin face. He dried his face with a towel and glanced at his reflection in the mirror. His green eyes were loosing their brilliancy due to lack of sleep and pure sorrow and had turned a shade of dark jade and both were red and blood-shot from his unconscious crying at all hours of the day (the Dursleys had begun to think he finally went off his rocker). He slid his glasses back on, pushing them up his nose, getting a clearer view of his face.

The cheeks that had been once full of color were now pale, thinned out, and flushed slightly. The skin under his eyes was rubbed a pink-red from his constant wiping away the salty tears and darkening bags hung under his eyes. He wore an oversized green-flannel shirt over his tee shirt that only fit because he had shrunk a few of his clothes before coming back to Privet Drive. The green-flannel shirt hung down to the tips of his fingers and covered the top of his voluminous jeans that was held onto his thin waist by an old leather belt.

He looked like a corpse or the living dead; even he had to admit that. Harry sighed turning off the light before he began to think about 'It' again. Harry hurried out and started to go back to his room when his stomach rumbled, reminding him why he left his room to begin with. The teenager changed course and walked down the stairs softly, as to not attract unwanted attention from others in the house. It was slightly cooler downstairs than it had been in his room.

He walked towards the kitchen, where smells of the lunch still lingered in the air and pushed open the door. He found Dudley, Vernon, and Petunia sitting at the table pecking at the remains of their lunch. Each of them glanced at him and froze. Vernon, what is he doing here? What day is it? Harry's mind raced. Oh, right, Sunday. He thought shaking his head before walking into the kitchen the rest of the way.

Vernon cringed slightly and his aunt turned up her nose. He didn't look at them; he just went to the cupboard. He opened it and pulled out a loaf of bread and some peanut butter. "What are you doing?" Vernon grunted at him.

He didn't answer, he usually didn't; instead he pulled a knife out along with two slices of bread and spread the peanut butter on one slice. He heard Dudley shift. "Hey, Harry," Harry froze for a moment before screwing the lid back the jar and pulling out a jar of jelly. "Who's Sirius?" Tears fled to his eyes. Harry was glad his back was to the Dursleys as he struggled to force them back. "'No Sirius! No look out! Look out! Sirius!'" he mimicked. The muscles in his back went rigid as Dudley went on. "'NO SIRIUS! I have to get to him! Save him! Let me go! He's just fallen through! SIRIUS! Sirius!'"

"Stop it," Harry said in a thick and controlled voice.

"'Oh Sirius, Sirius!'"

Harry whirled around, his eyes flaring and tears shining in them with anger. "Stop." He said with a controlled voice.

"'SIRIUS!'" Dudley chortled. "What'd you do? Kill someone at that freak school of yours?" taunted Dudley.

The glasses in front of Dudley, Vernon, and Petunia shattered. Dudley recoiled back in his chair so abruptly that the chair fell backward and he was sprawled on the floor. Vernon got up as Petunia hurried over to Dudley. "We'll have none of that!" Harry's angry, tear-filled eyes shifted to his uncle, fighting to control his anger. He shook his head turning around. He spread the jelly onto the other slice of bread. "Dudley, go on out, Peter's mom said he was going to come by soon."

He heard his cousin get up and hurry out, not needing to be told twice. The moment the door shut behind Dudley Petunia spoke in her shrill voice. "We took you back under the—"

"You took me back because you know if you didn't you'd have more than a dozen witches and wizards after you." he said slamming the fridge door shut after he placed the jelly into it, he didn't want to be reminded at this moment that he wasn't wanted, that he wasn't loved.

"DON'T SAY THOSE WORDS!" thundered Vernon as Petunia quickly looked out the glass into the yard, searching to making sure no one heard. "How dare you stay under my roof and disobey the rules I set forth!"

"I DIDN'T ASK TO COME BACK!" Harry shouted.

Petunia shook her head. "Vernon," He looked at his wife whose face Harry could not read. "Clean up the mess you made, now." She ordered before walking out of the kitchen.

"Take care of the dishes while your at it," Vernon said. "And if you break anything else," he warned, the threat hanging, knowing that Harry knew what he meant.

Harry shook his head as the door closed behind his uncle. He bit into his sandwich and placed it on a clean plate. He obeyed his aunt and uncle's orders and began to collect the shards of glass. Tears began burning in his eyes as he stood. He was unloved in this house and knew that…maybe he should write to the Order and ask to leave or something. He shook his head tossing them into the garbage before picking up the dirty plates. No, he wasn't going to do that. He deserved everything that happened to him here, he deserved to be unloved…right?

He was about to sit down when he heard a gun-shot-like sound, almost as if a car had backfired, and a cry of surprise. He dropped his plate down on the table with a clatter. He knew that sound. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand racing towards the front door. He heard his aunt scream Dudley's name as he raced out the front door.

To his surprise he saw Dudley running (well his form of running) towards someone on the street. Confused, Harry just stared. He heard the gun-shot-like sound again and jumped, looking sharply down the street, a dark car speed away into the distance. Petunia shoved past him with Vernon behind her.

He let out sigh of relief, it wasn't Voldemort or Death Eater Apparating, it was merely a car backfiring. He turned his attention to Dudley who was now leaning over someone on the street corner, which was odd because it looked almost as if he was helping someone. A bike with the wheels still spinning on its side was fallen near him. "Dudley!" Petunia exclaimed throwing open the gate.

Dudley looked back at his mother as he helped a teenage girl to her feet. Harry's eyebrows shot up at the sight of his cousin helping someone. Dudley never helped anyone in his life as far as Harry knew; girl or no but even Harry had to admit there was something oddly different about this girl. She had long waist-length brown hair that was pulled back into a French braid hung over her shoulder. She wore baggy jeans with a hole in the knee were Harry spotted a bleeding gash and a black tank-top shirt that hugged her form like a second skin but didn't look too revealing but it didn't look quite modest either. He saw a bleeding graze on her elbow along with a scrape on her shoulder. If his brows could have shot up any higher they would have at the sight of her shoes, she was wearing black combat boots.

She limped slightly as Dudley helped her along. "Come on, we're almost there," Harry heard him say to the girl. Shock crossed his face. His cousin was being polite and helpful. "Mum, will you get her bike?"

Petunia shook her head, as if to snap herself out of a trance and straightened the bike into an upright position, leading it back to the house. The girl smiled weakly at her. "Thank you, ma'am" she glanced at Harry. Disbelief crossed her face and her eyebrows arched up. "Nice stick." She said wincing as Dudley stepped on her foot.

Harry shook his head realizing he still held his wand out. Vernon looked enraged as fright flickered across Dudley's face. "He has a condition," his uncle said as if it explained everything.

She nodded. "Ow," she said tripping. She grabbed the first thing that came to her hand, which happened to be Harry's arm. He caught her quickly and easily. The girl was now in his arms, closer than any girl had gotten to him since Cho or Hermione. "Thanks." She said, smiling weakly before Dudley shot Harry a death glare and Harry handed her over to his cousin to have him 'help'.

"What on earth happened?" Petunia asked leaning the bike against the hedge.

"It was that black car that backfired," Idiot, you could have exposed yourself over a stupid car backfiring. Thought Harry sliding his 'stick' into his pocket as Dudley continued. "Well, she had just started into the street when the car shot out, almost hitting her. She swerved to get out of the way and fell. Then it ran away."

"You poor thing, boy get the first aid kit, now." Ordered Petunia as Dudley helped her up the stairs and into the house.

Harry rolled his eyes and followed them into the house, shutting the door. He dug into the cupboard under the stairs, the one where he used to live, and pulled a first aid kit out. He pushed open the door to the kitchen and almost gasped in shock. The girl was sitting on the counter top and Dudley was wiping up the blood tricking down her leg as she held a damp paper towel to her elbow.

He shook his head and held out the first aid kit. Vernon yanked it from his grasp and opened it on the counter next to the girl. "I can't thank you enough for your help, I haven't been in this area for so long I've forgotten how traffic around here runs." She said as Dudley pulled out cleaning alcohol.

Harry sat down and took another bite of his sandwich. A strange smell wafted through the air, almost as like a perfume but stronger. Dudley began to clean her elbow. "What's your name?"

She drew in a sharp breath as the alcohol touched her graze. "Ow," she said biting her lip momentarily. "Oh, I'm River, yeah I know strange name my parents were somewhat hippies. I moved into the house on Bakers Street about two weeks ago or so. It was ours ten, some-odd years ago but we had to leave."

"River, did you said?" Petunia said turning the fan in the kitchen on, to clench the heat some.

The smell became strong then a flood of memories flashed into Harry's mind but at the next moment disappeared, tucked away into his mind. He shook his head glancing at the girl who was smiling as Dudley cleaned her knee. The smell was drifting from her. He brushed it off, thinking it was a perfume as he continued eating.

"Your parents are Robin and Thomas?" questioned Petunia in her normal curious way.

She looked at her curiously, the thankful smile disappearing. "Er, yeah."

"I think we've met before,"

"Have we? I haven't been her since I was six and that was only for about six months then my mother's job moved and we moved with her to Cliffe Wood, a town several miles outside of London. How do you," she didn't finish the question, staring at them in mistrust.

"You used to play with Dudley all the time at school," Petunia said with a smile. "Don't you remember Dudley? River Jacobson, your little playmate?"

Harry frowned looking back at the girl. Dudley never played with any girl when he was—a stream of memories flowed into his mind. Dudley playing with a little girl with braids, Dudley and oddly him with Vernon and Petunia at a piano recital where the girl in braids was playing, them saying goodbye to the little girl with braids before she climbed into the back of a car. He shook his head, he remembered the scenes but he didn't remember actually having lived them.

"River? What, what you doing back here? I thought you had left for good." Dudley said as he put a band-aid on her knee before looking at her, obviously smitten.

Realization swept over her face. But there was something not quite right about it, the memories didn't settle right with Harry. "So did I," she said excitedly. "But," she looked sad for a moment. "My mum died in a car accident so my dad moved back here."

"Oh, I'm so sorry dear." Petunia said touching the girl's hand.

Harry spotted the tips of her nails painted gold with glitter. She looked down. "Yeah, me too." She said softly.

He took the last bite of his sandwich as Dudley helped her down off the counter. "Do you still play the piano? I remember how much you loved to play it." He said as Petunia closed the first aid box.

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm actually in a concert that's performing in two weeks at the Globe theatre."

"Whoa, you'd have to be really good then," he said as Harry got up.

She giggled, her laugh sounded slightly fake to Harry but then next moment it seemed real. "I suppose. I've been practicing and won a lot of contests but," she shrugged humbly grinning.

"If you were able to get into a concert at the Globe you must be amazing." Vernon said, his gaze softening as Harry placed his dishes into the sink and began washing them.

"I guess," she said biting her lip, fighting back a broader smile. He felt her eyes flicker to him. "And what have you been up to, Dudley?"

"Nothin' much, just the same old same old. It's great to see you back in town, you've changed." Dudley answered politely.

Harry frowned back didn't speak, trying his best to focus on what was happening, or anything just to keep his mind off of his nightmares, off of Sirius. "So have you,"

"We have a piano in the parlor, if you want to play something." Petunia said as Harry scrubbed at the dirty dishes.

"Is that a request?"

"Would you?" he heard Dudley ask.

"All right," she said following Petunia out.

Dudley followed her into the parlor leaning Vernon and Harry in the kitchen alone. Harry set the last dish into the drain-board and turned off the water. "Get on upstairs, and don't take that thing out again." He ordered as Harry heard River begin to play the piano.

He didn't answer but walked out of the room and hurried up the stairs, egger to get away from his family. The notes from the piano floated up the stairs, sounding like heavenly music, almost angelic. He opened his door and shut it before throwing himself down on his bed. The notes being played reminded Harry of a time where he was happy, a time that he could no longer have.

Hedwig hooed at him. He looked at her through tears that sprung to his eyes. He wished he had Ron or Hermione to talk to in person or had some way of staying in touch with the Wizarding world but he cut himself off of it. He only responded to the Order's letters but they were barely three sentences each. He didn't want to have everyone pity him. His body shook his new sobs. He wished more than anything that he had Sirius to talk to.