Photograph - Nickelback

I miss that town
I miss the faces
You can't erase
You can't replace it
I miss it now
I can't believe it

So hard to stay
Too hard to leave it
If I could I relive those days
I know the one thing that would never change

Year to Be Gone

Chapter One: Distance Can Kill

The crowing of chooks, the wails from the attic ghoul, even the small squabbles among the siblings: that's what he really missed this day. Yesterday it was the taste of treacle tart; day before yesterday was the feeling of exhilaration from taking flight and taking part in an edge-of-your-seat Quidditch match; the day before that were memories. Joyous, depressing, and even downright stupid. Today it was all brought crashing down on top of him as things, visions even, from previous days joined and made one. He missed his home, he missed the fun, and, he missed the love.

'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies … and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not … and either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives … the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies …'

'Power the Dark Lord knows not' … Love? How can the power be love? Surely Voldemort would have some feeling of lust; no way he could be pure evil. Many had said that he was a handsome youth, maybe in the short few years, maybe … But maybe isn't good enough. In this world, if we had feelings of love and care, you were on His 'to-kill' list. If you had pleasure in evil, pleasure in the Unforgivables, then you were considered worthy to live by Voldemort. It wasn't right, Dumbledore …

Dumbledore! The ring, destroyed, the diary, destroyed, Hufflepuff's cup, the snake Nagini, something of Gryffindor's or Ravenclaw's and then the locket. Was the real one actually destroyed? And who was R.A.B? A servant, an enemy, a friend? Thoughts like these often crossed the cloudy paths and wandered across the rickety bridges known to be danger zones in Harry's mind. Abruptly as they came they were gone, and Harry was thrown back to reality from somewhere between the living condition and his own subconscious.

Giving himself a mental shake, he rose from the bed and headed downstairs, much to his mind's protests. He dragged his feet slowly down the stairs, as though wishing each step, one-by-one, could somehow go back in time a day.

Dreading the reception he was about to get, he pushed open the dining room door. The reaction was instant, but did not have the desired effect.

The three heads of the Dursley's snapped up sharply, and took in a sight they had hoped never to see in their lives. Harry was all skin and bone; an old t-shirt and boxers seemed to have been thrown on somewhat blindly over his disheveled frame. His jet-black hair stuck out at odd angles, tousled from, or lack therefore of, sleep, and giving all at close range an unwanted view of his lightning bolt scar. It seemed, at this moment, to stand out on it's own pedestal from it's owners deathly pale body. On top of all that, there were his eyes. Usually a dazzling emerald colour, they had a looked of yellowing grass to them. They seemed hollow, like there was neither a start nor an end.

Sensing their gaze, Harry glanced up only to find looks not of hate and rage, but those of sympathy and care; even it they didn't want to acknowledge it. That was generally enough to set Harry off these days, but once. And only once, he though t he'd give them a chance.

"Morning," a forced, dead sound issued from Harry's mouth brought the Dursley's back to reality from their somewhat disturbing reverie.

"Mind your tone boy, and be grateful that we have allowed you back into our house with your unnaturalism. I know I can speak for all of us when I say it's for the good of everyone when we see the back of you today." Vernon's words were greeted with a stunned silence from Harry.

Finding his voice, Harry inquired; "What do you mean, I'm leaving? I never got told anything. What do you know? Have you been in contact with wizards?"

"Read this and be one with you, it came yesterday through the post." And with that Vernon thrust his hand into his breast pocket and roughly handed Harry an envelope.

There were two letters enclosed:

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dursley,

At two o'clock sharp in the afternoon of Tuesday the 8th of July, my youngest son, daughter and husband will be coming by your residence to pick Harry up.

You might remember that a few year years back, members of my family tried to come through the Floo Network. As it was unsuccessful, two Aurors will drive them.

Sorry to barge in, but they have a few matters of great importance to discus before their departure.

Best,

Molly Weasley.

Harry,

Dad, Ron and I will be coming on Tuesday to take you home with us. First off, I sent you a letter through Pig, but he came back to the Burrow, no letter, and looking slightly worse-for-wear. Dad, Kingsley, Tonks and Lupin reckon Death Eaters are watching Privet Drive. But don't worry, we are all fairly certain that Muggle post was the safest way to get this to you and it won't draw unwanted attention.

I'm letting you know that I really need to talk to you about what you did at Dumbledore's funeral. I know that it was probably for the best at the time, but you can't change your feelings, and neither can I.

Will see you on Tuesday. Everyone sends their best.

Ginny.

Harry just stood there, stunned, but then came to his senses, turned his back on his relatives and headed upstairs to pack.

It took Harry many long hours to find all his possessions, which, in the short time he was staying at Privet Drive, seemed to have become accustomed to their surroundings, therefore lodging themselves firmly in place. Another hour after that he had managed to wedge everything into his trunk, ready for what seemed to be another year ahead full of horror, tragedy and war.

Just seconds after he had heaved it all downstairs, the unmistakable sound of a car neatly pulling up the driveway, engine being cut and numerable doors being shut were heard, followed by timid knocking at the door.

"Get the door boy, now!" Vernon hissed at his nephew.

Harry opened it and stood aside so Mr. Weasley, Ron, Ginny and two Aurors none other than Kingsley and Tonks could pass him into the house.

"Wotcher Harry," greeted Tonks.

"Blimey Harry! You're as thin as a stick, when was the last time you ate?" Ron asked with apprehension.

"Erm – I'd say it was a day or so ago; I found some Honeyduke's chocolate in my trunk," said Harry. "I was going to eat something this morning, but then I found out about the letters that Gin and Mrs. Weasley sent."

"About that Harry, we really need to talk. You should never had broken up with me in last term," Ginny began, looked unnerved yet determined.

"Gin, please, can we not have this discussion now? I'm not too keen on having it in a room in which your brother, dad, Order members and my relatives who care nothing of my life can listen in."

"But Harry, it's eating you up inside, or something is. Please, open up to us." Ginny's voice was pleading, and it hurt Harry to hear here like that. Yet her couldn't comfort her, or get to close. He would find out, and then she would be in more danger than she currently is.

"Harry, that was on of the main things we needed to talk about," Mr. Weasley stated, "It is the on thing that could actually help us in this war; in loving Ginny, you would be fulfilling the prophecy. Although nobody knows for sure, it seems to be that everyone expects, they put their faith in you to stop … to stop V-v-voldemort, once and for all."

"Yeah, well, don't you know what it's like, having a prophecy made about you before you are even old enough to walk and talk? And now that people have actually got a fairly good idea of what I have to do, everyone is just shunting aside, pushing me to the front of the pack; it's as if I'm the one who's meant to solve everybody's problems. Trust the Prophet to let something out like this. But really, what am I when it comes down to it?" Harry asked everyone in the room, "What am I?"

"Harry, mate, you can't actually be seriously doubting yourself, can you?" When Harry just looked at him, Ron continued, "Well, you're the best mate a guy could ask for, you're loyal, bright and just want to act like a normal sixteen, nearly seventeen, year old. Oh, and you hate attention," Ron added with a bit of a smirk.

"Exactly," Harry was thankful that someone had actually answered truthfully, although it hurt him because sooner or later he was to push his friends away in order to keep them safe from Voldemort. "I'm not a hero, I'm no role model. Now we've gotten that fact straight, is it safe to ask when I'm leaving this hell of a place?"

"We are to remain here for a bit longer, Mr. Potter," Kingsley said in his deep, calming voice. "We were also informed to tell you that Dumbledore's portrait has been constantly asking to see you. He also wishes us to tell you that he strongly urges you to return to school this year."

Harry's face had paled considerable at the mere mention of Dumbledore's name, much like how he gut clenched every time Sirius' name was mentioned last year. Then his face had paled even more so at the prospect of returning to school. "It's not like I don't want to, it's more like…I can't."

Tonks, being her usual bubbly self, dismissed his worry and brought life back to the scene. "Well, you can have a chat with the old nutter yourself sometime, but for now we need to get you out of this place before any Death Eater's get suss."

"Too late, dear cousin," sneered the voice of Narcissa Malfoy from under a robe. "I always thought you were smarter than that: no time to stay and chat, always get out of the house and to safety. Not this time, it seems."

"The wittle baby Potter and his fwends need a demonstration on what our Lord wants fwom them. Take the fat Muggle, Cissy." Bellatrix's voice joined in the taunting, screeching insults and threats to everyone in the room.

Narcissa followed her sister's command with haste and cured "Crucio," pointing her wand directly at Dudley's heart. Immediately he fell to the ground, writhing and twitching in agony. The sisters cackled with glee as Vernon jumped in front of Narcissa's line of fire, transferring the effects of the curse to him.

"Enjoy our treatment, you filthy little Muggles?" Bella jeered, dropping the annoying baby tone and replacing it with her normal foul voice. "Enjoying it? Answer Me!"

"Do not answer, Dudley, Uncle Vernon, whatever you do. Do Not Answer!" Harry warned from where he now stood alongside Tonks, Kingsley and Mr. Weasley, protecting Ron and Ginny from an attack.

He walked forward, confronting his Godfather's distant relatives, ignoring warnings from his guard. They were going to pay. Bella for killing the closest thing to a parent he had ever known and Narcissa for siding with Voldemort, influencing Draco to be a potential killer and to once and for all get the payback he had always wanted to present to the Malfoy clan for making his life a living hell. Harry whipped his wand out from his jeans pocket and placed it under the latter's chin, causing her sister laugh a horrible maniacal laugh.

"Ickle baby Potter finks he can protect the filthy Muggles. Go on Hawwee, show us what cwever magic twicks you can do to impress your bwood traitor girlfwend."

"Not just yet, Bella," Narcissa exclaimed with sudden inspiration, "Let me show them what is at stake here. You can never know if they are taking us seriously or not. Avada Kedavra!"

A jet of green light sped from the tip of her wand, hitting Dudley square in the chest. His body, which was shuddering involuntary from the Cruciatus, fell limp of the floor. Dudley Dursley, for whom life was easy, thought and lived no more.

"Why you little freak!" roared Uncle Vernon. "How dare you! My son, my only son, gone. And it's all because of you. Everything! Freaks on the doorstep every summer, Marge's deflation, Dudley's tail. We should have left you to rot in some common orphanage, you disgusting little –"

"Avada Kedavra!" screamed Bella, this time the green light directed to Vernon as he was silenced, and fell to the ground; as dead and motionless as the polished dining table beside which he lay.

"No!" Petunia's knees gave out as she made her way towards the corpse of her husband. The now widow cried, "Look what you've done, you god-damned boy, you good for nothing freak. Get out of what's left of my house. Out! Now!"

Harry was somewhere between shock and confusion. His uncle and cousin were gone and he was unsure if he should feel any particular sense of loss. He was only vaguely aware of Bella's strong Diffindo curse brushing against his shoulder. Only when Petunia this time released a moan of pain did he realise the Cutting Curse had sliced open his shoulder. As the blood gushed everywhere outwards from the opening, he felt the presence of someone kneeling beside him. A petite figure with flowing red hair grasped his hand and held it close.

Just seconds before he fell into unconsciousness, five words issued from Harry's mouth, only heard by the figure beside him.

"Don't leave me, Ginny Weasley."

End of Chapter One.

A/N: Well there you go! I hope that it's enough for you to get intrigued into my first every Fan Fiction!

Please either message me or leave a review telling me how you think it's going.

Thank-you for my one reviewer, means a lot, although this time I hope to get more.

Chapter two should be drafted within the next week. School is back so it's hard for me to juggle writing with my already hectic life.

Love always,

Jess (funky-munky893) xox.