A/N: Sorry, thought I posted this earlier. Ch 3 should be hot on its heels though.

Happy reading

Chapter 2: Alone

The hazy morning light drifted lazily through the bedroom window, pale and filtered through layers of thickcloud cover. Harry himself lay sprawled across the small single bed, thin sheets and blankets hanging over the edge and pooling on the floor as Harry started to stir from his sleep. Not really wanting to wake up yet and still in the hazy state of mind that comes sometime between sleeping and waking, he rolled over and buried his face in the ragged pillow with a sigh, trying to avoid the thoughts that he knew were coming.

It had been three days since Hedwig had taken off with the letter for Siriusand his response had yet to come. Harry knew that he was probably worrying over nothing but he hadn't seen any of the Order members hanging around either, and there was no way they would leave him alone at the current climate. Sure, he hadn't seen anyone last summer either -- until, of course, he had heard Dung disapparate not five yards from himself the day he was attacked by Dementors -- but now that he actually knew they were there, he figured that someone might want to talk to him every now and again.

I guess not, he thought bitterly, abandoning sleep as he stood to get dressed and prepare for another day in the Dursley household. Harry started when he heard a sharp rap on the bedroom door and his aunt's shrill voice coming from the hall, slightly muffled. "Get up, boy!" she demanded, "Vernon leaves for work in half an hour and you haven't even started breakfast yet. Up! Now!" She punctuated her last word with another hard rap, turning and padding down the hall, expecting her nephew's immediate obedience.

A violent tantrum from Dudley, Vernon's usual three cups of coffee, and a pound of bacon later, Harry stood wearily in the kitchen, leaning against the once pristine counter and watching Dudley finish eating his meal with mingled fascination and disgust. There was no other sight quite like it. He would only stop sucking in the eggs long enough to engulf a few mouthfuls of bacon or toast, or to slurp down some of his orange juice to wash down a particularly large bite. Through it all, it seemed to Harry that the silverware was more of a hindrance to the boy.

When at last he had finished, Harry went around gathering the dishes from the table and proceeded to dumpthem in the sink so that the soapy water could get a chance to loosen the food from the plate before he had to start scrubbing. Vernon gave Petunia a peck on the cheek, sent Harry one of his usual glares, and stalked out the door. Moments later, the car door slammed shut and Aunt Petunia reentered the kitchen.

"Here's your list for the day," she hissed, brusquely placing the paper on the clean table. "And you won't be getting lunch until you've at least finished the work in the garden."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," he droned, turning back to the dishes. Inside the living room, the sounds of the telly clicked on and Aunt Petunia left the kitchen to tend to his whale of a cousin. Admittedly, Dudley had lost a bit of weight since last summer and he had probably gained some muscle from the wrestling, but apparently the diet had ended sometime while he was at school, Aunt Petunia being unable to deprive her son of anything that he wanted over long periods of time. Harry was honestly surprised that it had lasted so long in the first place.

"… yesterday afternoon, an unexplained explosion destroyed a secluded home just outside of Liverpool. The homeowners, a family of three, are still missing. We bring you live to --" Dudley had obviously switched the channel, unable to stand watching something as informative as the news for too long. An unexplained explosion and the family still missing… it sounded like something Voldemort and his Death Eaters might have done. Perhaps they were on the move at last and the Ministry would realize their mistake and give him back his…

Shut up! Don't even think about that! he scolded himself. Just focus on what you're doing, don't think about it, not any of it... The mundane and repetitive task filled his senses and his thoughts as he forced down anything more meaningful. Funny how thinking about his friends used to be the only thing keeping him sane throughout the summer, whereas now, all that did was bring pain. It was official: life at the Dursleys had never been worse.

-0-0-0-

"We now bring you live to the site of destruction. Emily, how are things looking over there?" The screen switched from an image of the studio to that of a middle-aged woman wearing heavy makeup, standing before a small, half collapsed house out in the woods, smoke still risingin lazy wisps and bellows from smoldering ruins.

"Thank you, Tom. Now, as you can see, the explosion happened at the back of the house out in the yard, taking out the kitchen and part of the second story. As far as we can tell, there have been no injuries though no members of the family have been seen since yesterday morning. The father, a Mr. Seth Niall, was seen at work earlier that day but neither he, nor his wife or daughter have been seen since. Back to you, Tom."

"Thank you, Emily. Coming up, we have…" click! Arianna turned away from the dark screen and glanced out the windows at the still cloudy sky. She had woken up a couple of hours ago in the small hotel room with a heavy cream pasted over half of her face, her hands, and up her arms but no burns or bruises in sight. Her father had left a note on the bedside table saying that he would be back in a couple of hours, not to worry, and that there was plenty of food in the fridge. Not a word about her mother or where she was.

The reasonable part of her mind insisted that they had probably just split up for some reason or another, but she felt on a purely instinctual level that there was something more, that something was really wrong between her parents and she couldn't help but think that it was her fault. She was the one who had gotten herself along with half the house blown up, the one who had forced them to abandon another home, the one who kept proving time and time again through her actions that her father was right about the old magick being too dangerous, thus fueling the age-old argument.

"He better not have left her…" she mumbled to herself, glaring moodily at the floor.

"I haven't." Arianna glanced up and saw her father standing just inside the door, draping his drenched coat over the back of an armchair and shaking drops of water from his short hair.

"Dad, you're home. I didn't hear you." she said quietly. Mr. Niall sighed and sat beside his daughter on the mussed bed.

"I'm sorry for leaving you here like that. I just had to take care of a few things, you know?"

"What kinds of things?" she pressed, digging her fingers into the fabric of the comforter.

"Boring things." he said quickly, not meeting her gaze. "You alright? Not sore or anything are you? I had to make that cream myself and I was really rushed so I don't know if --"

"I'm fine." Silence permeated the room, thick and oppressive, only interrupted by the occasional rustle of their clothes as they shifted nervously, neither of them daring to attempt to tackle the large elephant in the room.

"Er, I'm going to just go and take a shower. You should have something to eat to make sure the potions don't upset your stomach." Mr. Niall mumbled at last, making to stand and head for the small bathroom. Arianna felt tears pricking her eyes and quickly rubbed them away, embarrassed. What had she done?

The sound of running water could suddenly be heard from the bathroom, and Arianna knew that her father wouldn't be able to hear her. "Mom?" she whispered desperately, "Mom, I --" A small, dry sob escaped her throat, the terrible guilt like a physical pain, twisting in her belly and forcing her breath to come in short bursts. Their family was falling apart and it was all her fault! "I'm-I'm so sorry!" She buried her face in her hands and tried to slow her breathing, like her mother had taught her to do when she was young, using the meditative, healing nature of the old magick to soothe and calm the body and mind. Not long after, she fell into a deep sleep that was, for once, not filled with dreams.

-0-0-0-

"Potter! Boy, snap out of it! Are you even listening to me?" Aunt Petunia snapped furiously from behind him. Harry blinked and turned, letting the gardening hose drop to the ground from nerveless fingers.

"I'm listening," he mumbled a little sheepishly. He hadn't meant to drift off like that; he could barely recall the day's events, slipping in and out of his little fog constantly as he went through his chores so that, by the time Petunia approached him in the garden, he had a sickly, dazed look about him. "Sorry..."

Aunt Petunia rolled her eyes. "Don't bother being sorry about it, foolish boy. Just get in there and do it." At Harry's confused look Petunia narrowed her eyes angrily and hissed, "Dinner, boy! You are to help me prepare the dinner."

"Right, I'll just..." Harry leaned down and scooped up the leaking hose, coiling it around his arm as he went to put it away. Petunia sniffed in something that might have been approval or disdain and flounced back into the house and Harry was left alone for a few precious minutes before –

Crack! "Wotcher, Harry." said a female voice that Harry recognized from previous stays with the order. Tonks, short hair an unusual shade of purple today, walked calmly out from behind the shed, motioning for Harry to join her.

"Tonks!" he breathed, a brief sense of relief flooding him. "So when can I get out of here? Do you know?"

The metamorphmagus' expression fell. "I'm sorry, Harry. Dumbledore says you're going to be stuck here for a while."

"A while being, what, a couple of weeks, months?"

"We'll see. You're safest here, what with the blood wards around the house." Tonks shifted her feet unhappily.

"Obviously not, considering what happened last summer, you know, when a couple of dementors came down the street." said Harry. A moment later, he felt guilty, knowing that it wasn't really Tonks's fault that he would have to live with the Dursleys'. If anyone's, it was his for starting the DA in the first place. In a slightly more agreeable tone, Harry continued, "So I'm going to have to stay here... indefinitely?"

"I'm afraid so, kiddo. But you know that we're here for you, right? Ron and Hermione were pretty torn up when you left. You should really respond to their letters, let them know you're okay and all..."

"I haven't gotten anything from them, or anyone else for that matter." Harry grumbled. He looked up to see Tonks watching him, brow furrowed in confusion.

"But that's not right. You haven't gotten any of their messages since you've been here?" she asked.

"No, that's what I said." There was a pause as Tonks seemed to ponder this. Eventually she sighed, looking around at the darkening landscape.

"Well, I dunno what to tell you, Harry. Maybe the weather's bad or something. Don't think too much of it." Harry nodded. "I'm sorry, Harry, but the Order'll have my head if I'm not back. It was nice talking to you." a moment later, she spun on her heel and disappeared with a pop, leaving the night feeling cold and empty.

"Yeah. See you around, Tonks." Harry muttered dejectedly after her. Then he remembered that he was supposed to be assisting his aunt in the kitchen and so hurried back towards the bright warmth of the house. Petunia said nothing of his tardiness, opting instead to set him straight to work rather than waste any of her precious time lecturing the hopeless boy on his abysmal manners.

Throughout dinner, Uncle Vernon lectured Harry about his poor work ethic and generally ungrateful attitude towards himself and Harry's aunt, throwing in the occasional insult or threat and reddening in the face if Harry ever opened his mouth to talk back – all in all, what would pass for a usual evening with the family. A half-hour later, up in his bedroom, Harry was relieved to see Hedwig standing lazily on his small bed with a small note attached to her leg.

Harry,

I'm sorry to say that, no, you cannot stay with me at the moment. Dumbledore insists that you stay with your relatives for a while longer in order to "replenish the blood wards" and keep you safe from any attacks Voldemort has planned. With so many of the Order as busy as they are, it would be difficult and too dangerous to remove you from your family's care, at least for now that is. I promise that we will get you out of there as soon as possible. We'll figure this out together, don't worry. Just sit tight for a little longer and it'll all work out in the end.

About your wand, the Order is unwilling to allow you to remain without it. Seeing as your expulsion is not yet finalized, your wand is still floating around the Ministry somewhere and there is a plan to retrieve it and replace it with one of Fred and George's duplicates. Obviously, this is going to be a lot more complicated than it sounds and I'm not about to bore you with the details, but rest assured that we will get your wand back to you – It's just a matter of time, really.

I know that this is hard and that it's probably going to continue being hard for a while, but it will all turn out okay. Take care of yourself and don't let the Muggles keep you down.

Sirius

Harry breathed a deep sigh of relief and allowed his head to fall back against the wall behind his bed, a genuine smile spreading across his face for the first time in over a week. There was still a chance, still some hope left.

A/N: So there it is. You see that pretty button down there? Yeah, you should click on it and tell me what you think in a review.