Part 1- The Return

Chapter 9

July 13th, 1995

For the residents of Privet Drive, Number 4 had always been a bit of an oddity in their neighborhood. Strange and unusual things seemed to always be happening there, but none so odd as a few days' prior, when the homes owners were rushed to the hospital. The police had been there too, and there were rumors that there had been an incident of domestic violence between them.

The nosier neighbors hadn't been able to glean much from the police, and the Dursley's young son and that other, scruffy young man that lived there hadn't been seen for days. Finally, the night before the lady of the house had returned home with her son in toe, but they had scurried into the house before anyone could speak to them. Ever since, number 4 had been quiet as the grave.

Currently, Petunia Dursley was seated at the table in their kitchen, a mug of tea held in her hands that had once been steaming hot but was now as cold as the blood in her veins. She had never felt fear like what she felt now, not in her entire life. Phantom streaks of pain still raced under her skin every so often, some kind of terrible side effect of what the FREAK had done to her. Just thinking about him made her tremble with terror.

He was a monster, plain and simple. What he had done to her, to Vernon, to their home had been nothing short of monstrous. After everything she and her husband had done! They had taken him in, fed him, clothed him. In her mind, she'd met any obligation she'd had to her now rightfully dead bitch of a sister, and this is what she'd been rewarded with.

Vernon was still going in and out of consciousness; when he was awake, he would wake up screaming like a mad man and have to be restrained, babbling incoherently. Dudley hadn't spoken a word since that night, even when they were at the hospital.

Even if the police believed her story about her husband having a psychotic break, they had made it clear that there was still to be an inquiry about the damage to the home and how she'd been found unconscious and moaning in pain. The only bright spot is that the hole in the wall between the two bedrooms was easily attributed to Vernon thrashing about in his delirium, mostly thanks to voluminous body.

Somehow, they hadn't even mentioned the FREAK. It was as if they hadn't even known he'd existed. It was probably some kind of FREAKISHNESS that he'd done.

The FREAK. This was his fault. She should have let Vernon drown the brat like one of Marge's bloody dogs years ago when they'd found him on their doorstep. The only thing had made her stop him was the damn letter that came with him, and the fact that she was afraid of more FREAKS coming to take revenge.

The FREAK. His FREAK father. His BITCH of a mother. Precious Lily had been the apple of her parents' eyes, and now her damned child was a MONSTER.

For one, singular moment, the voice in the back of Petunia Dursley's mind, the one that she'd suppressed for more than a decade, had spoken. As it spoke, memories assaulted her. Years of ordering him around like a servant, years of hateful, vile things coming out of her mouth, years of listening to her nephew screaming in agony as Vernon beat him bloody with his belt, years of watching the light fade from those little green eyes… Her sisters' eyes…

"You're the monster." It had said softly.

Petunia laid her head down on the table and wept.

In truth, Petunia had been incorrect, at least partially. The reason that the police hadn't asked about Harry Potter was due to magic, but not magic that he had performed. Instead, it had been the young lady at his side that night. The runes that she'd inscribed on the runestone that had allowed her to enter the boundaries of the wards on the Dursleys home had been overlayed with a powerful compulsion charm similar to the one that made muggles steer clear of Hogwarts, but instead of being keyed to the castle it was keyed to Harry himself. It was a clever bit of magic, preventing the police from remembering anything about Harry's existence while they were within the wards so when they exited, they had no idea he was there. Hermione Granger was truly a remarkable young witch. The complexity of the runes she'd laid on that stone would have given master runesmiths a run for their galleons.

The walls of the main parlor in Potter Manor were painted an earthy green color, but they were currently bathed in a burning orange mixture of the flames from the fireplace and the light of the late afternoon sun.

Sitting in a plush chair near the fireplace was the source of Petunia Dursleys newfound troubles, leaning back into the chair with his elbows braced on the arms and his fingers tented in front of his scowling face. His dark hair was abnormally wild, at least for him, but there were no other signs of the intense battle he'd been through a few days' prior. He was dressed in an outfit similar to what he'd worn to Gringotts, and currently he was staring at the small round tray table a few feet away from him.

Set upon this table was a wooden chest, no larger than shoebox. It was simple in appearance but performed a much-needed task, that being to seal whatever was inside it away when the lid was closed, cutting it off from being able to interact with the outside world. Currently, it only held a ring. The jewel in the middle of the setting gleamed in the afternoon sunlight.

"Staring at it won't do you any good."

"Shut it." Harry barked, his scowl deepening.

"I could give you some pointers you know." The voice said again. "After all, I did make it."

Harrys eyes left the ring and focused on the chair across from him. Tom Riddle smirked back at him.

Groaning in irritation Harry stood from his chair, running his hand through his hair absently as he paced around the room.

"Oh yes, pacing around again. That worked so well yesterday." Riddle said, now having appeared in Harry's path.

Harry growled. The shade had started appearing the day after he'd returned to the manor with the ring and hadn't gone away. The only time he'd had any peace in the last few days was when he sealed it in the box, but he had a task to accomplish. He needed to absorb the Horcrux without being subjected to its curse and killing himself in the process. He'd handled it carefully after claiming it from the corpse, making sure not to put it on directly lest he suffer Dumbledore's fate. The problem was simple: when he'd absorbed the Horcrux in the future, he'd done so on instinct. He'd assume he'd know what to do with it when he found it, but he'd been wrong.

"I know perfectly well how to destroy the damned thing." Harry barked without thinking. Immediately he stiffened, knowing he'd said to much.

"Curious." Riddle said aloud. Without the inferi body he'd been inhabiting during their duel he'd been reduced to a semi translucent husk of himself, with little power of his own to use. He'd attempted to possess his captor but had resolutely failed. The boy was too powerful to possess and too headstrong to influence. He was no fool, and knowing that he was all but helpless now, he'd decided to do the only thing he could: amuse himself by irritating the young man until he slipped up and gave him an opportunity.

That was, until a few seconds ago.

"If you're not trying to destroy it, then why keep it?" Riddle mused aloud. "You clearly are aware of what it is, yet you haven't destroyed it yet. I'm sure someone as capable as you could at least cast the fiendfyre curse, so it's not that you don't have the means." He said, pacing around Harry as he thought, a hand raised to his chin. A moment later he stopped, snapping his fingers and grinning as the truth came to him. "You're trying to absorb it and take the power I left behind."

"Ten points to Slytherin." Harry said mockingly. He knew just as Riddle did that the shade could do nothing to stop this, and his irritation was only growing.

"There is certainly more to you than I expected." Riddle muttered. "Horcruxes can only be absorbed by the person that created them, or someone linked to that person by magical means. Just who are you?"

"The man that killed you." Harry said, letting the words sink in. "Twice."

"Really?" Riddle asked, seemingly unfazed. "That's a problem."

"Not for me." Harry responded. "I'm working on doing it a third time, but I'm going to have to absorb you to do it."

"Curious." Riddle said, disappearing for a moment only to reappear back in the chair across the room. His expression was pensive for a long moment before he spoke again. "What if I could help you do it?"

"What?" Harry asked, confusion obvious on his face.

"I'm at a bit of a disadvantage here, in my current form, bound to this ring." Riddle said, leaning back into the chair and mimicking Harry's earlier posture. "I'd like to be able to get out and about again, as it were, and I think I can achieve that if we help each other."

Harry's immediate thought was to say no, but his curiosity won out. Walking back to the fireplace, he sat down and leveled his gaze at Riddle, crossing his arms.

"Explain."

Riddle smirked, partially in irritation. The boy was smart. He was taking care not to say anything positive or negative, lest he get caught in a magical contract without realizing it.

"I can tell you how to absorb the horcrux, on the condition that you do so in a way that will allow me to still exist within you."

Harry scoffed.

"And let you possess me like you did the corpse? No thank you."

"This wouldn't be a possession. More of a symbiotic relationship. I can see the world through your eyes and manifest myself from time to time in a similar fashion to how I am now. In return, you'll get all of the power inside this horcrux."

"I'll get that regardless when I absorb it, with the added bonus of you being destroyed."

"True, but you won't get my knowledge. Absorption will give you power, but I can teach you how to use it properly."

Harry couldn't help but see his point.

"What is the benefit for you?"

Riddle laughed.

"Not dying, for one. As you can see from the bloody horcrux, it's not something I wish to do. Not to mention I'll get some semblance of freedom from this. The one thing I never considered when I made my horcruxes was that the piece of soul would be sentient, such as myself. Being trapped in that shack for decades on end is almost as disagreeable to me as death, so you can see my situation."

Harry stared back at Riddle as the silence fell between them, lost in his own thoughts.

The idea had its merits. This shade of a young Tom Riddle had proved in the graveyard that it was skilled enough to teach Harry quite a bit about offensive magics, light and dark. Still, there had to be an angle Riddle was playing here. He was too selfish and too arrogant to let himself exist within another for any length of time.

"I'm willing to consider it." Harry said after a moment. "But I need to speak to someone first."

Riddle sighed but decided to remain diplomatic. He needed this boy to trust him if he was going to pull this off.

Harry opened his mouth to speak again but stopped suddenly, standing from the chair in a flash as his wand flew into his hand.

"What is it?" Riddle drawled, not really caring for the answer.

"The house I'm supposed to be living at is under attack."

"How interesting." Riddle said, now appearing at Harry's side. He met Harry's confused gaze with a smirk. "Shall I come along then?"

When Harry arrived at Number 4, he was struck by two things. Firstly, the house was freezing cold. Secondly, despite the rapidly setting sun there were no lights on. From the floor below he heard a woman sobbing and the sound of glass breaking. For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Then he heard screaming.

At once Harry flew out of his room, descending the stairs three at a time until he came to the landing. He turned to the kitchen and his heart stopped.

Petunia had been slammed against the kitchen countertop and bent backwards with so much force that there was no way her spine was intact, her face and arms were covered in deep gouges that bled freely as she tried to push away the robed creature that current held her by the throat with its scabby, ragged hands. To anyone else, the situation would've looked nearly comical if not for the severe angle of her body. The creatures' black robes billowed around it as it held her close, as if it were kissing her.

There was no time. He was too late.

Harry locked eyes with Petunia Dursley, just in time to watch the light fade from them as the Dementor sucked out her soul.

Time slowed down. The dementor released her and her body fell back onto the counter. It stayed there for a moment, face turned towards Harry, her expression frozen as one of extreme terror before fading to a blank, impassive look. That sight seared into Harry's mind, even when her now limp body slumped down onto the floor.

The dementor realized it had new prey and turned to him, arms extending towards him.

With a roar worthy of a dragon, Harry Potter's magic exploded as his control snapped, and he gave into rage.

It was pure luck that nobody had been out of their homes to witness the end of Number 4. The house had been lit from within with brilliant blue light, shining brightly just before the back half of the home had blown apart, shattered by some unknown concussive force that shattered windows all down the block and set off car alarms for nearly a kilometer around it. Seconds later a black shape shot off into the darkening neighborhood, followed closely by a blur moving too fast for the eye to see.

Harry pursued the dementor as quickly as he could, but it had a lead on him despite his magically augmented speed. Nothing mattered to him in that moment. Not the plan, not the horcruxes, not Dumbledore. He would END that creature, no matter the cost. Faster than the eye could blink the two stopped as the dementor seemed to run out of strength, falling to the ground and flailing weakly.

They'd stopped in the same park that he and Hermione had reunited in.

The righteous rage that had fueled him calmed somewhat as he stared down the dark creature now desperately pulling itself along the ground. He was surprised he had managed to wound it so severely, since dementors were supposed to be resistant to all magic except the Patronus. Still, he knew he could destroy it. Within the pocket of his jeans, Harry felt the ring heat up.

"Do you know how to destroy a dementor?" Riddle asked as he appeared at Harrys side. "I do." He said softly. "I know just the spell." He was walking around Harry now, whispering conspiratorially. "I'll tell you, if you agree to my offer."

Harry's chest heaved as he stared at the dementor. It seemed to be regaining strength as it lifted itself up onto the elbows of its nightmarish arms, its fingers digging into the dirt as it moved. Somehow, it was regenerating.

He tried to think clearly, but all he could see was the terror on Petunia's face, all he could hear was Riddle's voice promising him justice to this wretched creature. He opened his mouth to refuse, when a panicked scream split the air for the second time that night.

"Dudley." Harry whispered, still unable to look away from the dementor. It was hovering now. Quickly, Harry tried to draw on a memory to cast the Patronus, but it wouldn't come. Petunia's face was burned into his mind so deeply he couldn't think straight.

"They'll get him too." Riddle whispered as he laid a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I can save him. I can save you both."

Harry's resolve broke when he realized he wouldn't be able to cast the charm in this state. No matter all of his powers, he didn't know if he could destroy these things, but Riddle…

Just as Harry was about to speak his consent, another voice whispered in the back of his mind, this one familiar. The words it spoke broke the cloud Riddle had placed over Harry's thoughts.

Raising his left hand, Harry roared the same words as his right eye bled red, power flowing out of him.

"UMBRA MORTEM!"

"NO!" Riddle roared before he vanished. The park was filled with a brilliant white light, even more powerful than that of the Patronus. The dementor shrieked in fear and pain as it was literally burned from existence, the light so bright it erased the dark creature completely.

Just as suddenly as it had come, the light vanished, and Harry was plunged back into darkness. He took a moment, blinking furiously to get his bearings back until he heard the same scream again, this time fainter. His gaze shot to the alley, just in time to see a pair of glowing red eyes fading away.

A ferocious smile split his face as he tore off to find his cousin.

Blood pounded in his ears and his heart felt like it would fly out of his chest at any moment. He barely registered that he could see his breath as he ran, but he felt the temperature plummeting.

He had no idea how this could have happened. How had the dementors gotten past the wards? And how many were there? In the previous timeline, only two of them had come, and they'd only attacked him and Dudley that night. Not to mention they weren't due for weeks. This must've been what Death had meant when he said the flow of events may change.

Harry skidded to a stop as he entered the alleyway. The same alley that he'd fought the two dementors in last time. To his horror, there were dementors everywhere. He couldn't even begin to count them. The swirling mass of dark creatures moved like the churning sea, surging this way and that around a central point on the ground. For the briefest second, Harry got a glimpse of the middle of the mass and saw his cousin lying prone on the ground. The dementors were swarming around him, draining him as they'd done to Sirius years ago, but they were also fighting and clawing at each other in their attempts to feed.

They hadn't taken his soul yet.

Harry raised his hand again.

The air was suddenly so thick with magical energy that even the frenzied dementors took notice. Harry's black hair began to float in an unseen breeze as his eyes glowed with power, one red, one green. Soon the glow surrounded his entire body, his magic becoming so dense it started to arc like bolts of electricity around him.

He knew he only had one chance to end this, and he would do it in one strike.

The same intense light from before began to pooling in Harry's left hand, but instead of releasing the spell he kept pouring his power into it. The bolts of electricity surrounding his body began to arc and strike the ground around him, a powerful wind roaring up and surging out from him as the light began to form an orb in his hand.

He crushed his fear. He quieted his mind. His soul focus in that moment was the spell he was going to cast. Never in his life had Harry felt this kind of strength or wielded this kind of power.

The bolts of magical energy now swirled into the orb in his hand and became even more fierce, leaving burn marks on the stones of the alleyway where they struck. The orb has doubled, then tripled in size.

The dementors had fully ceased their assault on Dudley and had turned on Harry, surging towards him in a black mass of death.

Harry could hear the same screams that had filled his mind in third year, and he felt like he was standing in the artic as the temperature dropped so low ice formed on the ground around him. But through it all he kept his focus. He was nearly ready. He heard her. Through the darkness and the intensity of his concentration, He heard her calling his name from within his heart. Do it Harry, she told him. Show them who you are.

Hermione's shining face in the forefront of his mind, He held out his hand, palm opened wide.

For us.

"Umbra mortem maxima." He said softly.

If anyone had been there to watch, it would be the most magnificent act of magic they'd ever see.

The orb of light blasted forth from Harry's outstretched palm, surging forward so fast the dementors had no chance to escape. It passed through the column of dementors that had formed as they attacked like they weren't even there, instantly deleting them from existence. The ones not caught directly in the orbs' path were soon burned away when it stopped just before it would've consumed Dudley and exploded, sending out a massive shockwave of energy as they were bathed in the pure, white light from before. It was so bright it drowned out all color, and Harry could hear the terrifying screams of the dementors as they were purged from existence.

All at once it was over.

Harry fell to his knees, gasping for air as his red eye faded back to green. He was sweating heavily, and he knew he was nearly out of magical power. Whatever he'd just done had drained him almost completely.

"Bloody hell." He managed to gasp out after a moment. His eyes searched the alley and landed on his cousin. He was still lying there, only now he was just whimpering instead of screaming. Still, the fact that he was doing anything reassured Harry that he hadn't been too late to save him.

Harry knew he had little time.

"Dobby!" Harry called. The little elf popped into existence beside him.

"Harry Potter sir, what has happened to you?" Dobby said.

"Dobby, there's no time." Harry managed to say. Exhaustion was quickly taking him. "Go back to my aunt's house. Take the loadstone from garden that has Hermione's magic in it. You'll know which one. Make sure nobody sees you. Then take it and this." Harry said, handing the elf the ring from his pocket. "Take them to the manor and seal them in the box on table in the parlor. And don't tell anyone about this Dobby."

"I must get Harry Potter help first!" Dobby said, shaking.

"Trust me Dobby, they're already on the way." Harry said softly, touched by the elf's loyalty. "Go now."

With a resolute bow, the elf disappeared.

Harry wanted so badly to give in to unconsciousness at that moment, but he knew he couldn't. Still, he hung his head for just a moment to catch his breath.

It was a mistake he'd regret.

From behind Harry was grabbed by the throat and lifted from the ground. He immediately reached for the hands grabbing him and felt their scabby texture. He'd missed one. His heart dropped.

The dementor raised him into the air despite his flailing and turned him around. His ears were filled with the sound of rattling breaths before they were again filled with the sound of someone screaming his name. Another dementor floated up to them from behind, reaching for Harry. The one that held him tried to swat the other away, and for a maddening few moments he was caught between the two, scabby claw like hands ripping at him and opening wounds. He screamed in agony as one of them gouged at his right eye, tearing the flesh above and below it.

With a cry Harry raised his wand and cast the Patronus charm, refusing to give in. Only a whisp of the charmed came out. He thought of Hermione. Her smile. Her eyes, the feel of her lips on his, her skin on his. He cast the spell again and the stag roared forth from the tip of his want, knocking the second dementor away and causing the first to lose its grip.

Harry fell to the ground and tried to scramble to his feet, but he was too weak. The stag had already vanished. His last stand had failed.

The dementor seized him again Harry felt himself going limp. He glared defiantly into the hood of the creature holding him as it lowered its head towards his own. He would not allow it to see his fear in his last moments. Instead, he thought of Hermione, how he loved her and how sorry he was that she would have to carry out this terrible mission of theirs on her own now while he died here, cold, and alone.

"You're never alone." Her voice said, clear and powerful in his mind like a beacon.

From the side the dementor was torn away from him, having been tackled by a large, snarling black dog. It latched onto the creatures' arm and growled fiercely as it twisted its head, tearing at the rotten flesh as the dementor released an inhuman scream.

Harry crumpled to the ground. The last thing he saw was her.

She came charging down the alley with all the rage of an avenging god as she skidded to a halt next to him. She raised her wand, and the last words he heard before he blacked out was the woman he loved screaming the Patronus spell as she cast it with all her might.

END PART 1

a/n- That was fun to write. I'm finding I like writing action scenes more and more. Also, to those wondering, Hermione's time to shine will be coming. Thank you all for your reviews, favorites, and follows. I'm overwhelmed by the positive responses to this story. Despite my periodic updates I refuse to abandon this story, in no small part due to your support of it. I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. This was intended to be a hybrid of redemption for what Harry had done to the Dursleys before but also them getting what they deserved. I'll expound on the aftermath later.

So, this concludes part one of the story. Next up:

Part 2: Hogwarts