Chapter Eleven: The Kid Is Followed By His Own Ghosts Screaming His Name

"Chess holds its master in its own bonds, shackling the mind and brain so that the inner freedom of the very strongest must suffer." – Albert Einstein

Harry...run... RUN

He woke up covered in sweat as he fell from his bed. Gasping for air, Harry tried to control his breathing and make sure he hadn't woken both adults with his fall. A few minutes passed, all was quiet as Harry got up and put his blankets back onto his bed.

The dream is didn't feel like the ones he had with Voldemort in it last year, but it still felt real.

He had been back in the graveyard with Cedric Diggory, as the green light hit the older boy in the chest. It played out as best as it did, up to the resurrection only instead of Harry blasting the cauldron killing Voldemort in that form, he rose from it, not dead. He looked snake-like, pale with red eyes and black pupils. Harry saw the face of a murderer, someone that did not care about anyone but himself and his goal.

He heard moaning and saw his parents and Cedric. They pointed wands at Voldemort, who didn't speak. What he did speak was hissing, loud as if it was in Harry's ears. He heard his mum telling him to run as they dueled Voldemort. Only for the surrounding area to turn black, with silver masks look upon him. He knew who these people were, seen them kneeling down to the corpse of their dark lord, only for them to try and attack Harry as he fled that day with Barty Crouch leading the charge this time in his dreams.

"Kill him!" The man shouted to the followers of Voldemort. Wands were raised and all Harry heard was his mother yell at him to run.

Harry couldn't go back to sleep. How could he when he was reliving that dream all over again, the supposed rebirth of Voldemort ended in the death of a student and the rise of Voldemort's followers, his Death Eaters to exact revenge on their lord that was killed by Harry's wand. It was the second time he killed someone, (Tom Riddle didn't count as he was just locked inside a diary like a ghost) The baby that was once Voldemort was mangled when Harry used the floating charm and send the thing crashing down onto the cold Earth, with Pettigrew reacting slowly.

He could still see the small grotesque body hit the gravestone and the Earth with a loud, sickening thud. Blood pouring out of it and a bit on the grey, wet stone. Harry knew there would be no resurrections this time, he was dead, his host was dead and the Death Eaters wanted Harry's blood for it.

Voldemort was gone and now the Death Eaters wanted Harry dead.

He looked around the room, his room. That's what Andromeda and Ted kept telling him, that this would be his room until Sirius was right back on his feet. They helped decorate it, to his opinion and color choices for the room. He decided the colors of his house Gryffindor, all scarlet red and a bit of gold around.

It still felt weird not being back at school, being expelled. Like it was a really weird dream that he'll wake up from soon. How he wished it would be that instead, Harry got up from the floor wiping the thin layer of sweat off his brows.

He needed to do something. Maybe some food could help?

Cedric Diggory never left Harry. Lily Evans-Potter and James Potter never left Harry.

They were ghosts that truly had hooks on the fourteen-year-old, always clinging to him in the back of his mind and followed him like a shadow. They would probably follow him till the day he died. Or at least that's what if felt like for Harry every single day since the Triwizard Tournament.

He wondered if Godric Gryffindor had to live like this after Slytherin left the school? Even after the death of Rowena Ravenclaw, how did that man continue to live?

"Do you know where my parents are buried? Does everyone know where they are?" He asked Ted one day as Harry worked on his homework (Transfiguration) and Ted wrote some notes for his work. Andromeda was at work, a healer at St. Mungos.

Ted stopped writing and looked up at Harry. "They know, it's pretty common knowledge. They are buried in Godric's Hollow."

Godric's Hollow, how ironic.

Harry nodded his thoughts far away from Transfiguration at this point. Ted continued to talk, "Harry... Have you-did you not know, where your parents were buried?"

"For a long time, yes. I didn't know where." He said it so casually that it hurt him on the inside and probably spooked Ted. He hadn't been able to know where his parents were buried because he lived with Muggles who hated magic and once he got here, it left his mind as he continued going through the motions of Hogwarts. But now that he didn't have Hogwarts, the once preceding thoughts of his family now was beginning to surface again. "Do you think if it's alright if I go visit them?"

Ted gave him a smile and told him that it was fine to go. He was actually going to the place where his parents died and are now resting. It felt weird but a good sense of weird to go to a place they would have considered home, that he would have considered home.

"Would like to go today?" Ted offered and Harry said yes.

He could still hear his mother screaming as he climbed up the steps to his room.

Godric's Hollow was quiet only for a few people walking to and from the church as Ted and Harry made their way to the cemetery. He had never been to one, he gripped the flowers Ted bought at a little store before going here to Godric's Hollow.

Looking around as he entered it, the places looked spookier with the snow covering the headstones. A statue loomed over them, one that Harry couldn't ignore because it was his parents and himself as a baby. The snow covered them but it sent waves of sadness over him. He didn't know why he was sad, he barely knew them.

That's sad though, he thought to himself as he continued to find his parents graves. That their own son can't even mourn them because they're strangers to him.

Harry continued as his inner turmoil raged on with every step he took. After he and Ted looked over each grave, they finally found his parents.

Lily J. Evans-Potter January 30th 1960-October 31st 1981

James Potter March 27th 1960-October 31st 1981

Harry placed the flowers down on their grave and took note of the sentence that was written on their grave. The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death it seemed to glow with the white marble. It was an odd thing to put on their grave, Harry noted.

I don't even know you that well, all I know is how you died.

No words to say to them, it made him seem like a horrible son but Harry argued to himself. How can he say things when he barely knew the people who died for him? All he knew was that they were ghosts to him that kept haunting his dreams.

Ted was shocked when Harry hugged him, he didn't push away just enveloped the young teen into his embrace as he wept. "Shhh, it's okay Harry."

Was it? Because at this point, he didn't even know anymore.

He pulled back and kept walking, passing the gate towards another place. He came across a very un-sturdy house, it didn't look like anyone had lived there. because it was impossible for someone to live there. There was a big gaping hole where the roof used to be, the door was blown off its hinges along with glass covering the tall grass.

This was where it happened... this was the place where Voldemort killed them. This is where they died and where everything began...

He didn't that he was crying again but from what Harry had no clue. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, the nightmares that kept tormenting him, the stress of having another life in your head and the realization that Death Eaters were trying to kill you and ghosts that kept tormenting him.

"Harry?" He could hear Ted asking something but all he could hear was Lily Evans-Potter's scream, that's all he could hear.

Hear the piercing screams of his mother and see the blinding green light.

NOTES: Back with this! Bit angsty and sad but then again it's Harry. Few more chapters left, will ramp it up with Draco and Padma's plan... Wonder what they are going to do? Mmmmmh?

Very short angst-ridden chapter here! Enjoy!