Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, I am only writing the story to keep myself busy.
After Dumbledore's death Harry knew he must take his destiny in his own hands, no one is there to tell him what to do anymore, also no one to use him like a pawn.
Was this what it felt like to be an adult? To know that something depended on you and no matter how you may do it or how you feel, it has to be done.
It was raining. Harry saw the droplets slide slowly down the slanted car windows. What he wouldn't give to get on with it. He knew what he was supposed to do and staying idle made him panic.
Dudley was playing games on his game boy and Aunt Petunia was complaining about the neighbours again. His uncle however kept throwing him pointed stares, as if Harry was going to spontaneously combust any moment and ruin his new car's seat.
Some things never change…
Home sweet home Harry thought as he walked into the Dursleys unthinkable clean living room. Harry went up the stairs massaging his acing forehead, followed by Vernon's instructions to never leave the house and stay out of sight for the whole holiday and he will find his food on the kitchen table each night.
After that his uncle just rambled on about freaks in his house and having to take care of other people's children because they weren't able to do it themselves and decided to die and leave responsibility to other hard working folks like themselves, the same as usual, with just some added turns here and there. He dumped his trunk at the end of his bed and lay down.
That was his plan, to go after the Horcruxis and Voldemort alone. The problem was finding a place to start.
Was that what it meant to be grown up? Knowing where to start and knowing what to do. Dumbledore always knew what to do. Always knew what was happening and always knew what to do about it. When his head master was around, you had that feeling of security in side that made you feel safe. Dumbledore would save you…
Though there was no more Dumbledore…
That was his plan, to go after the Horcruxis and Voldemort. To go after them alone.
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Harry's eyes where drawn immediately to a golden glint on his wall. The sun was rising over Little Winging. It had been a long night…
He had been thinking a lot. Hoping that thinking would help him understand the task that lay ahead. Instead it just made him doubt it all again.
There is no room for doubt
Harry rolled off of his bed and stretched. The sun was pouring into his room, and the sounds of other people getting on with their lives outside filled his ears, cars roling by and kids laughing in the park It was too perfect a summers day to spend in his room.
His room.
That was odd. It was odd thinking about things like that when seven years ago he lived in a cupboard. It seemed like such a long time. So much had happened in that time. So many people had waltzed into his life and so many had left it. He had changed so much…
His goals had changed so much.
Change is the only constant thing in life…
With a sad smile Harry closed the door of his room and walked down the deserted hall of the house. He could still hear his Uncle's snoring coming from their bed room…
The kitchen was cold and clean, not yet touched by the sun's paint. He had had so many memories in this kitchen. This entire house held so much of his childhood. Even though it was never really all good, it still had that familiarity about it. It all seemed so safe…
Nothing was safe anymore. It was all the past and belonged there. This was the future and it depended upon him…
The Horcruxis, Voldemort
But first he needed to be better, he needed to know more, learn more spells and he needed to get fit, he didn't want to die. He would never give Voldemort that satisfaction.
The door opened. Harry jumped up out of shock and reached automatically for his wand. His grip relaxed on it however when he realised that it had been Dudley.
"Hey Big D." Harry said looking up at the boy.
Dudley was now the ideal boxer, in height and in mussel. Even though Harry would never admit it, that is how he wanted to look. He wouldn't really want the pig-like features…but that healthy fit look that Dudley portrayed was appealing. If Harry had to choose who would be most likely to kill a dark lord, he would defiantly go for Dudley because the guys' fists looked as if they could inflict some serious damage…
He really needed to buff up…
Dudley turned his red eyes towards him and grunted, "What do you want?" He stumbled over to the fridge and jerked open the door. "Is dad letting you out of the room? I thought he would lock you in."
Harry raised his eyebrow as Dudley pulled out of the fridge with a bottle of ice cold water which he started drinking gradually. His cousin sat down in the chair opposite him bouncing the bottle back and forth between hands.
There was an awkward silence. Harry wanted to get up and leave but for some odd reason he was glued to his seat waiting…
"Harry." Dudley said in a tired voice, "You know last time when that crackpot old man came to our house…"
"Dumbledore," Harry answered solemnly.
"Yeah him…he said that mum and dad inflicted damage on m…" Dudley let the sentence hang in the air. "nah, never mind."
Harry said nothing as his cousin stood up and left the kitchen treading noisily up the stairs towards his room. Harry could guess where the boy was all night. Most probably out with his gang at some party or another.
Yeah dud, I think Dumbledore knew what he was talking about.
He would stay here for as long as he needed to. He would need to get something to keep him busy in his room for the next few weeks. He promised Dumbledore he would not leave there until his seventeenth birthday, and he would try to keep that promise. But if they start something he might consider leaving for a while.
He sat back in his chair. The house was silent again as Dudley seemed to find his bed. He would never come back here again. He would never see his room again, nor his family. He would never come back.
It made him feel at lost.
Sure he might have hated growing up here. But he had grown up here after all.
It was dark, he decided, dark enough to get out, and the Dursley's were all asleep. Harry stood up, and walked stealthily across the floor, he stopped at the door to check if he could hear Vernon snoring. There it was and he could swear it sounded louder than Fluffy's…
It was the first of August. It was time for the big change.
Harry slipped his wand out of his jean pocket and picked up his backpack. The front door swung open and he was out into the cool early morning air.
He walked down the street as quickly as he could. Not caring that the front door was still open. And not bothered by the fact that the most of his belongings where still hidden in his room. He was out. It was starting…
He walked until he reached the end of the street and stopped turning back for one last glance. He would miss the old place. He would miss the identical houses and the perfectly manicured lawns. He would miss it all…
The moon sailed behind a cloud and when it remerged, Harry Potter was gone.
The Leaky Cauldron wasn't very busy, there was just a few people scattered around the pub some looking pretty shady and others nearly asleep in their chairs. Harry sat down at a table in the corner. Looking at the man slumped over the bar table, how can someone actually get so drunk he wondered. Tom came and asked him if he wanted something. Harry replied that he would like a meal and a room. Tom was never one to ask a lot of questions and complied, room 11 was open; Harry could have it for the night.
Just after Tom left the man sitting closest to Harry stood up and went away, which was probably good as he looked almost as bad as the guy at the bar, leaving that day's edition of the Daily Prophet on the table. Harry needed to know what was going on in the wizarding world and took the paper.
To his surprise there was a whole section of the paper on Voldemort and his latest attacks, also the latest death count. The count stood on 495. The Death Eater raids were small, but came up regularly, there isn't a day gone buy that at least 7 towns are attacked. It looked as if they had a hit and run strategy, hitting quick and running away even faster. The raids ran all over Britton, and seldom lasted more than 40 minutes. Muggle towns were mostly attacked although the magic community was not left out of the action. Lastly Voldemort didn't kill the people, he just tortured them, children, parents, and families so many lives changed or nearly destroyed forever!
What was Voldemort playing at? What was he waiting for? What was he doing, for that matter! The attacks are nothing like what he used to do, the death count stood basically at nil considering his past reins numbers, really the guy has gone mad. Madder than he used to be anyhow.
After Harry ate his dinner, it tasted a lot better than any of the food he would have gotten at the Dursleys. The steak, roasted potato, vegetables and pumpkin juice were almost as good as Hogwarts's. He went to his room, his trunk was already there. Harry changed into pyjamas and climbed into bed, hoping for a good nights rest. Tomorrow was going to be a very busy day if he wanted to get ready for what lay ahead.
Harry woke up early the next morning and couldn't quite place where he was, or why he was there. He rubbed his eyes and it all came back to him.
The room was dusty and old; there where spiders dancing in the corners on their stages of cobwebs. Harry had been here before however…he remembered it well.
A warm smile touched his face as he thought about his first time in Diagon Alley. It was magical…
Harry went to Gringots first to fill up his moneybag, and exchange some galleons for muggle money, pounds to use in London. The white building stood out like a glittering diamond in the early morning sun. Though it was lonely in the abandoned streets.
Where were the people? Where were the laughing children and the mad old ladies trying to sell of second hand love potion? Where was the magical atmosphere? What had happened to Diagon Alley?
The war…
Harry walked down the abandoned road passing a person here and there. Most of the shops where closed, the rest where boarded up and emptied. He had hoped of buying another wand but realised too late that Olivander was gone. Diagon Alley seemed pointless at the moment.
It felt really odd walking into muggle London. He stood back at the pub entrance watching the people flow past him all on their way to work or hurrying off to breakfast.
This was it. He was going there. He was going to Godrics Hollow where it all started… Where Dumbledore told him he would need to start looking. He was going to the beginning.
Harry looked once more at the picture of his parents laughing in a room that seemed to be a kitchen. He realised that it probably didn't look that way anymore. That it was probably all in ruins…however he needed something to apparate to.
His hands let go of the door frame and Harry Potter fell into the stream of people who where running about their business, not knowing that the beginning of the end had just begun.