Disclaimer: Mostly not mine. Just the Lindells.

Chapter 2 – Let Me Go

When Harry woke up the next morning, he felt incredibly relaxed. It took him a moment to figure out why. As he stretched lithely on the small bed it hit him: he hadn't had any nightmares the night before. This in itself was remarkable. Most nights followed a bloody awful routine. Harry would wake up screaming, still in the throes of a painful and terrifying nightmare, with Vernon about two seconds from bursting through the door.

Vernon Dursley did not like his sleep being interrupted. He hated it. That was why he felt justified in giving Harry a good, sound slap to wake him from his fitful sleep almost every night.

This, Harry mused, must be the first time this summer that he hadn't woken up with an aching cheek and covered with sweat. It was nice. Unfortunately, he knew that it probably wouldn't last.

Harry swung his legs over the side of his bed with a groan, and stood up. He headed out the door and to the bathroom. Once inside, he pointedly locked the door and couldn't but grin, remembering the awkwardness of the night before.

After a short, yet enjoyable shower, Harry stood in front of a mirror, studying himself. Too skinny, he decided. And too short. No muscles to speak of, or anything like that. Quidditch really didn't do much for a person's body, no matter what the girls say. But as far as my face goes, I suppose I'm all right looking. It was true. Any girl would say it. He had a strong face, with a determined chin and eyes that any girl would swoon over. His hair had grown out more since the end of the school year and framed his face perfectly.

He was rather pleased with it, actually. The weight of his longer hair made it a bit less wild and also less reminiscent of his father. Anything that made him look less like James Potter was a blessing as far as he was concerned, though many would be surprised to hear it.

The sound of a door slamming dragged his attention from the mirror and made him wince. Dudley was obviously awake, and it wouldn't be long before he was demanding breakfast.

Harry dressed in record speed and was down the stairs before Dudley could say, "Freak." Without being asked, Harry pulled down the things needed to make breakfast and got started. He ignored the nasty complaints that Dudley vocalized, knowing better than to listen to the crap that the overgrown whale spewed on a regular basis.

Harry set Dudley and Petunia's meals in front of them, before turning to spread jam on the piece of toast he had spared for himself. Aunt Petunia shot him a disapproving glare but didn't protest. Harry didn't need to make anything for Vernon because he had left early in the morning for work.

With nothing to do until supper, Harry wandered outside, hoping to find something to do to pass time. Harry headed towards the park, chewing on his piece of toast. Footsteps behind him made him turn to check if any one was following him. It didn't appear like there was, but Harry knew better than to believe that.

Of course there is, he thought with a dark scowl. I'm still probably being followed by Dumbledore's bloody Order of the Vulture. Green eyes closed in exasperation. Harry finished toast before demanding quietly, "Well, what poor bugger has the incredibly boring job of being my shadow today?"

"Relax, Harry, it's just me. Tonks," she added unnecessarily.

"Well, now that's settled, why don't you go and bugger off?" annoyance coated every word that dripped from his mouth.

"Come on, Harry. Be nice," coached Tonks. "You know that this is important. We've got to keep you safe."

"I can look after myself," retorted Harry. "Besides, Dumbledore has told me many times that Privet Drive is where I'm safest. Why should I need a babysitter on top of that?"

"It's always good to have a plan B," countered Tonks.

"Yeah, that worked really well last year," snapped Harry. "Go away, Tonks."

"No can do, Harry. Sorry, mate."

Harry growled in frustration, and turned on his heel, striding towards the park. He heard Tonks rushing to keep up, and a slight squawk when she tripped on a crack on in the sidewalk, but he didn't slow down for her. Once at the park he slid quietly into a swing. He sat for a while, silently contemplating. The mood was ruined however, when the sound of running feet and heavy breathing broke into his thoughts.

He looked up to see Tristan jogging towards him. Her long hair was swept into a messy ponytail, and she wore sports shorts with a tight tank top. These things, with her flushed cheeks made her undeniably sexy. He forced a smile at her and she slowed to a walk, pulling headphones from her ears.

Tristan sat on the swing next to him with an open smile on her full lips. "Hey, Harry!"

"'Lo, Tristan," Harry was uncomfortably aware of Tonks sitting on the picnic table across from them. Though he couldn't see her, he knew that she was listening in. No privacy, whatsoever. He thought angrily.

"What are you listening to?" questioned Harry, nodding to Tristan's headphones.

"Three Doors Down. They're one of my favourite bands. The song I was listening to before I saw you is called 'Let Me Go.' Here – listen," Tristan pulled the headphones from her neck and passed them to Harry. He listened to a portion of the song, amazed at how some of the lyrics sounded like they were written for his life.

He pulled away and handed the headphones back to Tristan. "It's – strange – how the lyrics in a song can really sound like they were written for you, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean," agreed Tristan. "Sometime when I get depressed, it really makes me feel better to turn up my music and listen to something that explains how I feel."

"Like the lines in that song that we were listening to," Harry elaborated. He sang softly, "'You love me but you don't know who I am/ I'm torn between this life I lead and where I stand."

Tristan joined in softly (and somewhat off tune), "You love me but you don't know who I am/ So let me go, just let me go!"

"Yeah," sighed Harry. "That's what I feel like a lot of the time." He thought of Tonks listening in and smirked inwardly. Eat this, Tonks, He thought. "Lately it's like nobody really knows me. They love me, sure, but they don't really understand who I am as a person. And they can't let me go either. They hold on to me so tight, when all I really need is some freedom."

"People from around here?" asked Tristan, dark brown eyes trained on his face.

"No," Harry answered, then, thinking of his Order Guards, amended, "Not really. You'll probably never meet them."

"From the way you're putting it, it sounds pretty serious," Tristan commented, twirling a lock of hair around her finger.

"It is, I suppose," admitted Harry. "But I've been dealing with it for so long, I guess I don't consider it very important any more."

"Well," said Tristan, "If you want to look on the bright side, they aren't here now, are they? You should enjoy your summer of freedom with out them."

Harry smiled, albeit somewhat bitterly, and stood. Tristan was only a few seconds behind him. She wiped her bottom off quickly and straightened to smile at him. "If you want you could come to my house and grab your things. They're definitely dry by now."

Harry laughed quietly and nodded. "Sounds good to me," he assented. They began the walk to her house at a leisurely pace.

"Tris," Harry began.

"Mmmhhm?"

"Sorry to unload on you like that. I mean, I've barely known you for a day and here I am, pouring out my heart and soul to you."

She threw back her head and gave a full, rich laugh. Harry could feel his insides churning, and wished they would stop. "It's okay, Harry. I don't mind at all. It sounds like something that you needed to say for a long time. Besides, one of my friends back in Canada once told me that I'm a very approachable person. That isn't the first time someone's unloaded on me and it won't be the last."

She grinned at him before adding, "But remember, this means that you aren't allow to turn me away if I ever want to unload on you!"

"Done!" declared Harry, stopping to offer her his hand. They shook firmly before continuing on.

"So, do you go running every day?" questioned Harry, after a brief pause in conversation.

"No," Tristan shook her head. "Three times a week. I go Sunday evenings and Tuesday and Friday mornings. The Sunday run is pretty much set in stone, but the other two switch sometimes."

"How far do you run?"

"Er…about five kilometers, give or take a kilometer or two. Sometimes it depends on how energetic I feel on the particular day. It sucks though. Back home I had a girl who lived next door who would go running with me in the morning. Now all I have is my music. I mean, I love my music, right? But I miss having someone to talk to."

"You must really miss Canada," commented Harry. "I can't imagine what it would be like to move and leave all my friends behind."

"It's…hard," admitted Tristan. "Suddenly you're millions of miles away from everything familiar, you've lost all your routines and things that made home into home. You know? It's not easy to start all over just when you thought you had everything made."

Tristan turned her face away for a moment, brushing away a stray tear. She turned back a second later, her face set and emotionless.

"When do adults get off always thinking they know best for you, huh?" demanded Harry. "They go and screw everything up and then smile at you and say 'isn't this wonderful? You're going to thank us for this, trust us.'"

"No kidding, eh? They can be so stupid!" agreed Tristan vehemently.

"Jerks!"

"Morons!"

"And they're so stinking clueless!"

"No idea of what we think, at all!"

"They should just stop screwing around with our lives!" Harry exclaimed.

Abruptly, Tristan sank to the ground, laughing. Harry wasn't far behind. When they had both calmed down, Tristan reached over and kissed him briefly on the cheek. "Thank you, Harry, I needed that."

"No problem." He answered. The slim teenager stood and held out a hand to Tristan. She accepted and allowed Harry to help pull her to her feet.

"So," Harry cleared his throated after walking for a few moments in silence. "I can't promise that I'll be very good at it, but would you be interested in having me go running with you sometimes?"

The smile that she answered with was more than enough of a reply.

When Harry finally exited the Lindells' house with his now-dry clothes from the night before in hand, Tonks was waiting to ambush him.

"Harry…"

"Leave me alone, Tonks," answered Harry shortly.

"No, Harry, you listen to me," Tonks shot back sharply. Harry was taken aback at the normally cheerful auror's tone and stopped, looking at the area where he knew she was standing in surprise.

"Hestia Jones was the one guarding you last night, and she reported at the Order meeting this morning that not only did you go talk to some unknown strangers, but you went into their house without even considering that they could be supporters of the dark side. Everyone was very concerned that you wouldn't try to protect yourself from thing like that-"

"Tonks!" interrupted the fuming teen. "Don't be ridiculous! They aren't even a wizarding family, for Merlin's sake! What is there to protect from?"

"That's just it, Harry. You never know what could be around the corner. You've got to be more careful!"

"Careful to the point where I can't even make a friend? They're a perfectly normal family, Tonks! Tristan's…" Harry stopped for a moment, choking on his words. But a second later he was plowing ahead. "Tristan's the closest thing I've ever had to a friend down this road, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let this opportunity pass up.

"I need someone. I can't expect to make it happily through this summer with out someone to talk to and laugh with. And, no, my cousin will not work. So don't bother asking. The Lindells make me feel accepted and I don't even have to be the bloody boy-who-lived to get that!

"Just…" Harry ran a hand through his hair, frustration written all over his face. "Don't ruin this for me, O.K.? All I'm asking for is this one small thing. That's all."

Harry walked on, shoulders hunched as if to ward off some kind of blow, though whether it was verbal or physical, Tonks didn't know.

She followed in silence for the rest of the walk to number four. However, just as Harry was about to step inside, she asked, "Are you really going to go running with her?"

"Yes!" snapped Harry irritably, slamming the door behind him.

"Sheesh," muttered Tonks, positioning herself comfortably on a stone wall. Her attention shifted briefly when she caught a whiff of an unpleasant odor. You could always tell when Mungdungus was the last one to use something.

Though no one would be able to read it on his face, Albus Dumbledore was worried. There were certainly enough things to worry about. The war had only just started, and things weren't looking good for the Order and their allies. Death Eaters were picking off anyone who supported the light almost at will. Already two members of the Order had been killed in a couple of the scraps that had taken place with Voldemort's forces.

Thankfully nothing truly serious had happened yet. Public places such as Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley hadn't been targeted so far, though Dumbledore suspected that they would be attacked before the summer was out. Of course, the implications of war in the wizarding world had now fully set in, and the pressure the elderly man was under was incredible. It seemed that everyone in the wizarding community was relying on him to put an end to the whole fiasco.

The ministry owled him constantly to get his approval on actions that needed to be taken, and insisted that he help them with the many political dilemmas that had popped up since the revelation of Voldemort's existence was admitted by the ministry. Not to mention that he needed to deal daily with the concern of many worried parents who inquired about the safety of the Hogwarts grounds and building.

To deal with those things along with leading the Order of the Phoenix made for a difficult and exhausting summer and it had barely even started! And now there was this business with Harry…

It didn't surprise him that Harry was rebelling against his authority. In fact, it would be worrisome if the young man didn't – Harry's spirit showed that the events that took place at the end of the school year hadn't broken him irreparably. But Harry's rash actions could put him in serious risk if he didn't start to curb his anger and impatience.

The headmaster rubbed his chin with a forefinger. With any luck, Harry would sort himself out without Order intervention. Dumbledore quickly concluded that with Harry's attitude the way that it was, it would perhaps be best to simply give Harry his space, and only bother him with a few small reminders to be cautious. The next time he came in contact with Harry's young friends, the elderly man would encourage them to continue to write to Harry with words of caution and cheer.

This decided, the man rose from his plush office chair and took up a handful of floo powder. He didn't dare leave the Ministry to it's own devices for a moment longer, knowing what incompetent children they could be.

Well, there are certainly a lot of issues addressed here. In case anyone is wondering, updates will probably be weekly. It depends how motivated I am. Once again, constructive criticism is welcome, along with suggestions and opinions.

Smile

Jasperite