A/N: I am thrilled that I am able to create my own universes in the reality created by JKR. I own the ideas and characters and places which are unfamiliar. Anything you recognize belongs to the Creator.

I am very gratified with the response this story has received since 12/08/2014. However, I felt the story could be a lot better. Therefore, this is the first chapter of my revision.

To repeat, this is an expansion of the original one-shot. So it is going to look a lot like the first chapter except it is more detailed. The original one-shot is up on the advice of my Beta to provide a comparison.

I 'm planning for four more chapters. I will write those so that I can continue the story, if reader response warrants.

Harry Potter sat at his favorite spot next to Black Lake, pondering the most recent set of troubles in his life.

For Harry, things had all gone south the night of the third TriWizard challenge, last June. The maze, the graveyard, Cedric's death, the resurrection of Voldemort, the battle for survival, the return, the attack by Barty Crouch Jr., the Minister's refusal to accept the truth, and his silencing of the only witness.

The return from Hogwarts only taught him that the pain from the third task and it's fallout had only begun. The isolation from from his friends hurt him as badly as the Cruciatus curses from Voldemort had, but had lasted for weeks. Hell, even a mocking letter from Malfoy would have made his summer! Even after being sprung from 'Durskaban', things did not improve an iota. The pathetic excuse Ron, Hermione and the others had for not haven written him, that Dumbledore said 'no' (NONE of the Gryffindors had the courage to stand up for what was right?!). Well, that was just more understandable than Dumbledore's, 'We need Harry to have space to grieve' 'reasoning'.

The only 'Harry' thing he did that summer, was saving Dudley from the Dementors, and that only led to a surreal Wizengamot trial. He was acquitted before the Wizengamot, but Dumbledore did not speak to him the entire time there and disappeared immediately after the verdict.

Harry read all the articles defaming him. They had practically made a scrapbook for him of the seemingly thousands of articles questioning his truthfulness and his sanity and his motives. Only Dumbledore seemed to get in the neck more than he. And then, there was this Order of the Phoenix. No one would give him a straight answer about what/who this 'Order' was, nor its purpose. Being told he was 'too young' and to 'not worry about adult business' didn't sooth his nerves or temper.

He felt bad about taking his pain and discontent, and his worries and fears out on his friends, particularly Hermione and Ron. His upset at not being named a prefect startled him. He hadn't really thought about being a prefect and he knew he had not applied himself to his studies as he should. But to pick Ron over him was a joke. He knew Ron's grades were worse than his and he knew Ron would never be serious enough about the responsibility to make a good prefect.

Then Hermione sent back her badge, saying that 'If Harry isn't good enough to be prefect, I'm not either', that had warmed him, inexplicably. That mended their friendship. Soon they were working in the Black library together, finishing their summer homework and getting a head start on their fifth year studies. Harry wondered about the warm feeling he had when he was with her and the odd but pleasant feeling of butterflies in his stomach. He didn't understand those feelings at all, thanks to his relatives. Friendship was a hard enough concept for him to understand after all. His new feelings for Hermione simply didn't compute.

After returning to school, Harry found that the worst of his second and fourth years had returned with a vengeance. The borderline fear he'd felt from others when they thought he was 'The Heir of Slytherin' in his second year was back. Without being told, he knew that many students thought he had murdered Cedric Diggory. Those who thought that also were convinced he would kill again and they were afraid.

He knew that many of his schoolmates thought he'd made crazy, egotistical claims about Voldemort's return. Even in Gryffindor, his housemates questioned him and demanded 'the real story'. He was told that a number of his schoolmates had barely been allowed to return this year and that the historically small first year class was due to parents' fears about him. He could feel that a lot of them wanted him to have not come back, or for him to leave and let them be at Hogwarts in peace.

Just as he had felt the school's derision at 'Harry the cheater' last year, he felt it again now. He could sense their conclusion that he was somehow pulling the wool over their eyes for some underhanded purpose.

He wished that could swear upon his life and magic that he didn't kill Cedric and that what he said he saw after they both grabbed the TriWizard Cup was true. But this wish was futile, just as he had wished to make oaths about not being the 'Heir of Slytherin' and that he did not enter himself into the TriWizard Tournament and that he was being forced to compete. A 'beneficent' Ministry did not allow under-aged witches and wizards to make such oaths, for their 'protection'. To even make the attempt would cause his wand to knock him out.

He felt he was practically alone, without support, or friendship or affection. He still had Hermione and Ron, Neville, the twins and Ginny in Gryffindor. But he knew that they got hit with the same sort of fallout he received. It was unfair, and he despaired because they were hurt because of him. He could also pick up that there were others who believed him and supported him from the other three houses. None of them said anything publicly, nor did they approach him. He could understood that they wouldn't buck the negative current in the school, and he couldn't blame them.

Then there was today. The verbal attack him by Umbridge in DADA. Even the help he got from his friends couldn't stop Umbridge from boring in on him. He finally exploded, lancing this three month-old boil of pain. And then the detention, two weeks worth. The mockery and derision he felt from all directions when the news went out on the gossip hotline.

So now he sat, wondering if this was worth it. He couldn't withdraw, as much as he wished to do so, he needed to sit his OWLs first. "I can't see how I'll make it through the year. Too many people are against me and my friends are too few and too powerless. I need help and there's none to be found."

"Harry, help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."

-HC-

Harry stiffened, then sat stock-still. He knew that voice. The voice he heard when Dementors came too close, the voice shouting to his mum to take him and escape. The voice that told him to stand firm, to break the bond between the two wands, grab the Portkey and Cedric, to escape the graveyard.

Harry could not move. He felt more than saw the silver glow, enveloping him and comforting him. Then, he started when he heard a second voice.

"Harry love, please turn around."

He knew that voice as well. That was the voice pleading Voldemort for his life. The voice that told him how proud she was of him. Slowly he turned around and saw the faces he first saw in the Mirror of Erised. "M—Mum. D—Dad. Is it really you?"

They nodded, smiling. Harry rushed to them, hugging them. Even though his arms went through them, it was truly a hug. He was surrounded by comfort, by love and acceptance, feelings he could now remember and put names to. It felt like the best hug of his life. Only the hug given him by Hermione at the end of their second year could match this.

"Mum, Dad, h-how can this be?..."

Lily Marie Potter wiped a tear from her face, smiling at him, with joy, love, pride and sadness blended in her face.

"Harry, do you remember what Dumbledore said to you in Hagrid's hut in your second year?"

"Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it... But does that mean Professor Dumbledore sent you? Or the Castle? Is it really you, or have I gone 'round the bend?

"No son, said James, looking proud that his son had found Lily's brains and had asked them the right questions. "We are not like the portraits in the castle, or ghosts like Nick. Both of those are memories of a dead person. Your mother and I are the spirits or souls, if you like, that were freed when Lord Voldemort killed us that night."

"Dear Harry, we were given a choice. Because we gave our lives, we could wait to leave for the 'Next Great Adventure' and be with you and support as best we could. So we have been with you ever since, every step of the way." Lily smiled, looking at Harry both pridefully and sorrowfully. "I do not really know why Albus overrode our will and placed you with my sister and her family. I'm sure he did it with the best of intentions..."

"But we know to where that road leads. Interjected James. "Whether what he did kept you safe from Voldemort's followers, I don't know, but they never saved you from your 'guardians'. Our will explicitly said never to allow you to live with them. You have spent most of the last fourteen years in Hell and how you are not an abusive lunatic is a miracle."

"We were with you the whole time son. And we tried to guide you, but our voices were so weak there. We were the voices of your conscience and will. Maybe you heard us, or maybe you just were too good to give in. Nothing you have ever done, or will do will make us more proud of you than that you are the person you are." Lily's voice cracked at the end, and tears covered her face.

"Prongslet, you need to get a hold of our will, so you may become free of the Dursleys. You know Susan Bones, ask her to write her Aunt Amelia. She heads the DMLE and was our close friend. In our will we stated that your were to be raised by Sirius Black, your godfather. If not by him, then by your godmother, Alice Longbottom and her family.."

"What!" Exclaimed Harry, shocked. "Neville never said anything about this?"

"His gram might never have told him." Lily's voice held regret and pain. "You see, dear, it worked both ways. I was his godmother and you two would have grown up as best friends, even bothers in all but blood had we lived. But we didn't and Neville's parents were attacked by DeathEaters and driven to madness with curses. They are in the permanent spell damage ward at St. Mungo's, but their spirits are with us."

"Harry, we did have a third option, one that needed the will to be opened, as your third guardian does not know our wishes." James looked at Harry, with guilt and sorrow warring in his face. "Our third choice was Amelia Bones and you would have been Susan Bones' brother growing up."

Harry took this news quietly. It seemed to him that he was no longer able to register surprise.

"Son, there is much we need to say and too little time to get it all done. When you asked the Headmaster why Voldemort wanted to kill you, he should have told you then. There is a prophecy made about you:

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..." Exactly what this means is open to conjecture. The Headmaster may have some ideas and he should tell you now. One thing we do know is that you can't do it alone. Many will help, but the most important ones, your Companions, are the ones who believed what you've said about that night last June. There are at least five outside Hogwarts, may be seven. There are eleven waiting for you in the Great Hall."

"Eleven? That many? But who are they? Even knowing that there were some here, Harry hadn't thought it through carefully. Lily's laugh tinkled like a bell. "You have our brains, Harry. Besides your godbrother and godsister, who else?" Harry thought and his parents saw the proverbial light come on. "Got it on one, Prongslet! Well done. When you return, ask the Headmaster to speak to the students and staff. Remind him about Hogwarts help if you must. Have you sussed out what you need to say?" Harry thought a moment, brightened and nodded. Then, he embraced his parents once more and headed towards the Great Hall.

A/N: Thanks go to alix33, who is my beta for this venture. Any further problems you might find are, of course, on me.

Story recommendation: A Squib Worth, by Naia (id: 4771879). What if at age 11, Harry Potter was a squib? And what if he still had to vanquish Voldemort? Here is one answer.

Once more, Thanks to all you who read my efforts. Visitors, hits, reviews, follows, favorites, C2s are my only payment. Believe me, they make me feel rich!

Words 2,368
Posted 12/23/14, 03/31/2015