Tell Me Why

In my dreams, Children sing
A song of love for every boy and girl
The sky is blue, the fields are green
And laughter is the language of the world
Then I wake and all I see is a world full of people in need

Every day, I ask myself
what will I have to do to be a man
Do I have, to stand and fight
To prove to everybody who I am
Is that what my life is for?
To waste in a world full of war

Tell Me Why - Declan Galbraith

Forks, Washington. One hour, four minutes from Port Angeles. Three hours, twenty six minutes from Seattle. It was cold, wet and extremely cloudy, so cloudy in fact that no sunlight could be seen through through the mist. In Harry's own opinion it was a brilliant place to go, the town could provide him with the type of protection that he needed to train and carry out the last few months of his life in peace, away from the Wizarding worlds ruthless reporters. When Harry closed his eyes he could see the last few headlines on the Daily Prophet flash before him. 'The Boy-Who-Lives Fails'. 'Seven killed, what is our Saviour Doing?' Taunting him. Slandering his name, just because he couldn't stop the latest Death Eater attack and save those who were killed or because he hadn't killed Voldemort yet. 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named strikes again, Potter Hesitates!' They act as though they should just sit in their houses drinking tea while he does all the work, they don't think that should do anything because they have a saviour. Harry lifted a hand to rub small circles on his temple in a useless act to calm the images that make his head pound in frustration. Harry gazed out of the window to watch the plane part the clouds almost with a serene reverence. The calmness of the other passengers was a direct opposite to the voices yelling in his mind. Fudge. Dumbledore. Weasley. Malfoy. The speed at witch the voices were cascading through his head was enough to give even the craziest of minds a headache.

Harry had even tried to put his mind at ease by going to sleep. But he found that everything was too wrong for him to be comfortable. The cushion too stiff. The blanket too scratchy. The plane too unsteady. Each time he would close his eyes and strive to sleep something would pull him from the haziness his mind would acquire. It wasn't until the fifth time he had been interrupted, when the man behind him squired a coughing fit, that he realised he wasn't going to receive the sleep he needed. He contented himself with staring out of the window and getting lost in his horrifying memories.

He was gratefully pulled from out of his mind by the plane landing on the runway with a distinct thump of contact. Flight attendants pace the aisles once the plane had come to a stop, they would help the passengers pull their luggage from the overhead compartments. The only male attendant stood at the open door of the plane by the side of a small female. They thanked people for flying with the company, aided the elderly as they exited the plane and were epitome of all the things the company stood for. Harry couldn't help with give himself an internal chuckle at the pure American-ness* of the pair.

Once he received his suitcases from the luggage conveyor belt, Harry managed to drag them out of the airport. He closed his eyes as he stepped out of the front doors of the Port Angeles airport and with a small sigh he re-opened them and allowed himself to examine the city in front of him, or at least as much as he could see from the airports car park.

The travel guide he had talked to in England before making his long journey to America had said that the Plane would take him to the airport in Port Angeles and then it would be up to him to find a way to travel the hour drive into the heart of Forks. Harry walked around the streets of the small city to look for a small street or alleyway that he could briefly use his magic. Luck was on his side as it took him only fifteen minutes to find one appropriate for what he wanted to do. He went deep into the alleyway and with quick yet scrutinizing glances around him checked for any onlookers. He discreetly waved his hand with a small sweeping gesture in order to represent his wand and the bags magically shrunk to the size of a tin of mints. He pocketed the small luggage and with multiple searching glances around the alley, up above him, in front of him and behind him, he pulled out a tiny motorbike, which, with another wave of his hand, enlarged.

Harry ran his hand over the worn leather seat almost reverently and with a type of fondness that someone would show a dearly beloved pet. He checked each small detail of the old bike, looking for anything that could have been damaged during the long flight, as Harry realised that he had been moving around quite allot to get comfortable. Checking the last part, the exhaust, Harry gave the bike a clean bill of health and promptly straddled it. When Sirius had given the bike to Harry he had confessed that he'd lost the keys some time ago, probably back at Godric's Hollow. Harry had just smirked at his Godfather and pressed his index finger against the ignition switch and the old girl roared into life as though she were brand new.

It didn't take an hour for Harry to race through the city to the small town of Forks although it should have done and time shorter time was probably directly connected to the speed at which he had pushed the old bike, unwilling to spend to much time racing through the cold wet weather as his shields against basic diseases could only last for so long. From the town, contrary to what the Estate Agents thought, it didn't take him twenty minutes to get to the house he had recently purchased. His new house which was small and quaint yet slightly weather worn and some parts of the roof Harry could see were in a certain state of disrepair, some slate tiles from the roof were either in pieces on the floor from where they had fallen and shattered or leaning in a pile against the wooden slats that made up the walls. Although it was more of a cabin then a house it suited his purpose quite perfectly. With a small tired grin he chained up his bike to the metal railings which lined the steps leading to the cellar, and entered his new house warily. Harry knew that he'd have to fix the roof and very soon, preferably before it rained again but apart from that the furnishings were clean and comfortable, although they weren't the most impeccable that he'd seen, it was obvious that they had often been darned with odd bits of different materials but Harry loved it and he knew that it would quickly become his home.

Harry pulled out his bags from his pockets slowly, one by one and each one he dropped unceremoniously on the floor where they landed without a sound. Harry waved his hand lazily as he allowed himself to fall back on the couch and curl his legs underneath him wearily. He watched through heavy lidded eyes as each suitcase enlarged to its original size causing the luggage to be in a small jumbled heap in the middle of the living room floor. The excitement of the day and the impending jet-lag found it's way into Harry's system as he allowed himself to fall into a deep dreamless sleep that for once was untroubled by his frequent nightmares

xXxXx

Waking up, Harry found, was a very hard thing to do. His limbs didn't seem to want to co-operate with his commands, whether this was because of the extremely uncomfortable position he had been sleeping in or because the time differences between the two countries was affecting his body and natural sleeping patterns. As he stretched from his position he felt his spinal cord crack back into place, rolling his ankles and his wrists gained him extra cracks and groans from the weary joints. As he sat up he allowed himself to really examine the room he had crashed in. He once again noticed the darned furniture but this time he was able to take in the worn carpet that would have been soft if it weren't for the amount of times it had been walked across, the wooden coffee table in the middle of the room was unsteady and the previous owners of the house had folded up a wad of white paper in order to keep it usable. The walls had various shapes of bright cream paint, as though pictures that had been hanging there for years had been recently taken down. To his left was a large bookcase which stood wall to wall, floor to ceiling, completely empty.

Dragging himself from the makeshift bed Harry willed himself to walk to the Kitchen and as promised he found it was fully applianced. A large fridge freezer stood to one side of the window next to a large sink which was built into strong wooden worktops. Under these was a new washing machine and dishwasher which Harry had specifically asked to be supplied, even going as far as to wire some muggle money to the agency to buy them for him. As his eyes swept the rest of the room he noticed a small dining table that couldn't hold more then four or five at the most and a new microwave. Harry quickly abandoned the kitchen in favour of examining the rest of the house. The stairs were wooden but seemed to be very sturdy to walk up, the bedroom was large but quite bare holding only a double bed, bedside table and a large wardrobe which was mirrored by the second bedroom. The bathroom was small but quaint with a small bath and shower against two of the walls and a toilet and sink against the other.

Yes, Harry thought once again, this would suit my purpose quite nicely.

A/N – Wow thanks so much to everyone that reviewed, more than I expected to be honest. So for everyone who can't wait for Harry to meet the Cullens it'll either happen next chapter or the beginning of the chapter after that I haven't decided yet.

*It's nothing against any Americans reading but I'm British so there's gonna be a difference between how Harry acts and how other characters act and speak...well that's what I'm planning lol.

Thanks again for reading, review if you want...or don't it's up to you :)

Lol

E.V.S.