Chapter One – Changes in Harry
Of course Harry Potter wasn't pointless or insignificant and there was a purpose to his life but he couldn't see it anymore, things had become so blurred, memories were slowly being washed away and replaced with threats of beatings, torture and sometimes even death. Everything was pound into Harry so he would never forget it.
This had all started when Harry returned from his fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. His Uncle had lost his job and Dudley, precious, spectacular Dudikins had been killed in a boxing match, where he had taken a serious blow to the stomach giving him internal bleeding, which even after surgery had only taken three days to kill him, stone cold dead, leaving his Mother and Father both broken hearted. So they laid the blame on Harry, who was left and in their eyes it was he who should be dead.
Slowly Uncle Vernon had taken very nicely to a bottle of scotch or three everyday and that was just in the beginning there was more and more after that. Aunt Petunia had just given up, no ones misery gave her something to gossip about anymore, she had not moved from her bedroom, unless it was to go to the kitchen for a glass of water. The house was dead and this 'little' factor was blamed on Harry.
No one knew because nobody was told – Harry hadn't said anything, not to Ron, not to Hermione, not even to Dumbledore, he couldn't stand the idea of their pity or attempts to rescue him and make him safe. To have him live up to the expectations and be the hero he was meant to be, to be the strong willed, clever, happy boy that he should be. That had all past now, Harry didn't know what happy was, it was a mere memory, there was no feeling left within him, no feeling of happiness.
On August 27th, he received his sixth Hogwarts letter telling him of the books he needed to buy and that he was to become a prefect this year, a prefect.
'Me?' he thought. 'Dumbledore probably just feels sorry for not making me one last year and so does it now instead, thanks a bloody lot.' Harry continued to think bitterly.
So at 11.30pm that night, Harry went to the end of Privet Drive and held out his wand and in no time the great big purple Knight Bus came round the corner. Harry paid eleven sickles for a ticket to London and sat down on the four-poster bed that had been laid out for him and in due course fell asleep properly for the first time in six weeks.
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Harry stood outside the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron and took in each part of it bit by bit. The dampness, the bleakness, the dark, the smell and the idea of what lay behind the door, the whole world that happened right under (what you and I would call) ordinary people's noses. But instead of reaching for the handle and turning it like he should have, Harry let his eyes drift further down the street to a tattoo parlour, when his eyes lit up.
Two hours later Harry re-emerged into the sunlight and his still messy jet-black hair shone as it caught the light and his green eyes glinted with a false brightness.
He now had four new tattoos – one was an emerald green snake, with a silver tongue, the snake started on his left shoulder and ran behind his neck and curled round his neck to end on the left side of his neck, this snake was entangled in a piece of black barbed wire. The next was a cross engraved with a Celtic design at the bottom of his spine, then on his right shoulder blade there was a skull with a dagger piercing through the top of the skull and the dagger was dripping black blood. Then the very last was a small and intricate red heard located at the top of his right arm and on the left side of the heart at the top in gold were the letters L & J.
Harry sighed deeply and inhaled the clean air around him and did what he was supposed to have done two hours ago and walked inside the Leaky Cauldron.
'Ello Harry,' called Tom from behind the bar.
'Oh, hello Tom,' Harry replied, walking swiftly past him and out into the courtyard at the back. He tapped the wall three times, 'three up... two across,' Harry muttered to himself as he remembered standing here with Hagrid on his eleventh birthday, so much had changed since then and it wasn't necessarily for the better. 'Welcome to Diagon Alley,' Harry walked through the archway and headed for Gringotts.
Thirty minutes later Harry stood on the steps of the snowy white building blinking in the sun and adjusting his eyes, with his moneybag full. Harry made a first stop to Flourish and Blotts to pick up all the necessary books and then he moved on to the Apothecary to stock up on his potions ingredients. Finally resting outside Madame Malkins Robes for All Occasions. 'This is where I first met Malfoy,' Harry thought, he took one step closer to the window picturing himself standing on a stool next to Malfoy and telling Malfoy that his parents were dead. 'What a great start to a friendship that was,' Harry thought mockingly.'Having fun?' A voice drawled behind Harry.
'Malfoy.' Harry replied. 'Typical,' he muttered to himself.
'Oh how clever of you,' retorted the voice.
Harry rotated slowly on the spot to see a well built muscular boy, slightly shorter than he was, about 6ft. Who for once didn't have his hair gelled back but was actually letting it fall over his eyes and frame his face in a scruffy sort of way that hid the silver grey eyes underneath. Harry could see that even though Malfoy tried to smirk, there was a pain in his face that was standing out very clearly for all to see.
'What's wrong Malfoy?' Harry asked kindly.
'What do you mean, what's wrong?' Malfoy snapped back. 'Not trying to be nice are you Potter? But then I suppose what with all of your 'friends' having deserted you, I'm not surprised you turn to me to have as your friend.'
Harry moved closer to Malfoy, close enough that his nose was almost touching the bottom of Malfoy's forehead and stared down at him with his penetrating green eyes searching the lost, cold grey ones he looked into. 'What would you know about being alone and being deserted? How dare you try, yes try Malfoy and insult me with that pathetic attempt, you don't know the meaning of the word desertion, so don't use it until you do.'
Malfoy broke Harry's gaze and looked down at the floor, turned on his heel and walked away. Harry tried to watch after him but Malfoy became engulfed in the crowd of happy shoppers.
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'Harry!' Harry raised his head to see a smiling Hermione looking down at him. He was eating his dinner, or more like pushing it round his plate in the Leaky Cauldron for the fourth night in a row. He had returned to Privet Drive to collect his case, Hedwig's cage and anything else he thought he may have needed for the up coming year. Of course Uncle Vernon was out cold, unconscious on the living room floor like he usually was at night and so Harry managed to gather what he needed without being beaten or threatened with almost certain death.
'Hi Hermione, what are you doing here?' Harry asked as Hermione sat down in the chair opposite him.
'I'm staying her for the night with my parents and then they're going to take us to Platform nine and three quarters tomorrow, if that's ok with you?'
'That's great, thanks very much.' Harry forced a smile. 'How did you know I was here?' He questioned.
'Oh, um, I asked Ron if he knew and he said he hadn't heard from you all summer and so thought better of it and left you to be on your own, what with Sirus' death last year...' Hermione continued talking but Harry didn't hear.
'Sirius,' he thought. 'Sirius, my godfather hasn't crossed my mind all summer but is doing so very much now anyway, what kind of a person am I? A beaten, demoralised and hurt person yes, but not one who should forget about his godfather. How could I be so selfish?'
'So I ended up doing a locater spell because you hadn't contacted me either. Harry? Harry? You haven't listened to a word I've said, have you?'
'So what?' Harry snapped at her. He pushed his plate away and stood up. 'Sorry Hermione,' He said quickly. 'But I'm tired, I'll see you in the morning.' Harry continued coldly.
'But Harry, you haven't finished your food and it's only 7.30 ......' Hermione trailed off as she watched him start to climb the stairs.
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'God, why won't people leave me alone? Well people being Hermione...... was I too harsh on her? Oh god I wonder what Ron's going to be like...... 'Why didn't you contact me? I wanted you to come over etc. etc. Well I didn't come over cos I was being beaten within an inch of my life by my Uncle!' Harry shouted at no one in particular.
'Oh dear, you should really try and control you temper you know. Random outbursts like that are not good,' said a voice. Harry turned to see a painting shaking his finger at Harry and tutting, while moving his head from side to side in a disbelieving way.
'What would you know?' Harry spat.
'Hmm,' said the painting very shortly and in a miffed sort of way.
Harry walked into his room and without even considering taking his clothes off he landed face down on the bed and fell straight asleep.
Well that's that chapter out of the way. Hope it continues to entertain you. Thank you so much to my reviewers. This chapter was for Sparrow Greenleaf and Voldermorts Veela my first two reviewers!!! Lol. How corny is that, oh well. I'm going on holiday now and so won't be updating until I get back, which is the 1st August. Hopefully I'll have a couple more chapters for post then. See ya soon xxx Lelimo.