Pain.

Wracking through his body.

Feet numb, frostbitten.

Lungs on fire about to explode.

So close!

The sound of frantic running was getting louder and louder from behind him.

A hand reaches from behind him and grabs hold of the cup.

NO!

Their eyes lock.

The dead, empty, soulless eyes of Cedric Diggory.

of Sirius Black, as he falls backwards into the veil.

"SIRIUS!"

Lupin tries in vain to grab hold of him.

Harry falls headfirst through the veil, in wake of his godfather.

Falling. Falling deep into the endless darkness.

"SIRIUS! Noo! I… I… I'm sorry!" he sobbed.

The pain racking through his body peaks as he collides with the bottom of the pit.

His eyes tear open and Harry finds himself staring at the ceiling from the floor of Dudley's second bedroom. Chest heaving and his eyes blurred with unshed tears, he attempts to get up before realizing that not all of it was a dream.

The entire back of his body was on fire. Carefully sitting up, Harry painstakingly peeled off what was left of Dudley's old garments, and went to survey the damage. There wasn't too much blood, but it certainly hurt something awful, and it didn't look any better.

Moving to get some clothes, a a knot formed in his stomach. Had he screamed in his sleep? His uncle certainly wouldn't be pleased at that prospect.

After waiting anxiously for a few minutes, Harry gingerly placed himself onto the bed on his stomach, fruitlessly attempting to get some sleep in the few moments he had left.

Apparating to Hogsmeade, Severus mind was reeling. He reasoned that, if Potter were as clumsy with everything as he was with Potions, he could have easily fallen and earned that bruise by his own doing.

But, though he hated to admit it, the boy did have excellent balance in Quidditch, obviously inherited from that reckless father of his.

Perhaps it was a muggle brawl of some sort, but he did not see the other bruises needed to support such a theory. The boy was probably nothing but a coward, running in fear after the first punch to his precious face... Still pondering the strange bruise, his reverie was interrupted as he noticed Dumbledore lingering by the gates.

"Ah, Severus. I see you're back already," Dumbledore said, looking pointedly at him.

"It seems so." he responded, annoyed by the headmaster's need to point out the obvious.

Dumbledore just smiled in response.

"I believe I've found the heir to the Black house. Would you care to join me in notifying him?"

"Believe me, Albus, when I say I've had enough excitement for one day."

"Very well, then. I'll be off," Albus said, walking down towards the end of the school's wards.

"Right... I shall be in my quarters if needed.", Severus said, his attitude clearly stating that he better not be needed.

Harry is awoken for the second time, only this time by his aunt's screeching. His back and head were still aching, and he silently wondered whether or not his aunt actually gave a damn about what his uncle did to him. The idea wasn't exactly promising. He made his way downstairs and got about making the breakfast he wasn't allowed to eat.

Vernon barely spared him a glance, even when handing him the list of chores. It seemed like nothing was amiss, and recent occurrences never took place. Harry made his way upstairs, deciding to start with the indoor chores. He'd rather not work in the hot morning sun, and he was still panicky about the person who had been watching him the other day.

A loud knock on the front door, accompanied by a shrill scream, was what broke the silence. Not five minutes later, Harry heard the pounding of his uncle's footsteps as he came up the stairs. The door of Dudley's room, which he had been cleaning, swung open with a loud bang. Harry was once again pinned to the wall by his Uncle, face forward this time. The dark haired boy breathed in sharply as he made contact with the wall, then he forced himself to concentrate on Vernon's words.

"One word about anything, and you're dead! Do you hear me boy?"

All this was said in a harsh whisper that made Harry curious. Terrified, or course, but curious. He silently nodded his head in agreement with his uncle. He took on look at his clothes and prayed that he didn't look too horrible. At least the t-shirt was large enough to cover most of the bruises, and Vernon had stayed away from his face, probably to avoid any attention being drawn to him. From the top of the staircase he could see Professor Dumbledore calmly sitting on the Dursleys' couch, awaiting his appearance.

"Ah! Harry, my boy! How are you!" Dumbledore asked.

Harry was still confused, and ignored the question.

"Hello professor… err... what brings you here?"

"Have a seat, my boy. I have some news for you."

"What is it?" Harry responded, ignoring the invitation to sit down.

"It's about the heir to your godfather's house," said Dumbledore. Harry heard a sharp intake of breath from somewhere behind him.

"What about it?" Harry asked, a bit anxious.

"I have reason to believe that you are now head of the Black estates."

Harry said nothing, a lump forming in his throat. He was touched at the notion that his godfather had left him the Black house. The guilt churned in his stomach like acid. "Wow... I thought it would be left to Remus," said Harry, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Yes, I had initially assumed that also," Dumbledore replied, "but alas, it is not Remus. So, who else would he leave his belongings to, but his own godson?"

This statement nearly brought tears to Harry's eyes. Out of the corner of his eye Harry then noticed his relatives huddled by the door, eyes wide and shoulders tense. Vernon expectedly looked like he was about to explode.

"So, we will take a trip to headquarters to see if my inquiries are correct."

A 'Yes, sir' was Harry's only reply before they headed for the door. Apparently Vernon found some senseless courage as Harry and Dumbledore walked to the door.

"Where are you going? Where are you taking him? The boy's been ours since your lot dropped him off on our doorstep."

At first, Harry was startled by the fact that his uncle wasn't jumping for joy about his departure. But, then again, they would be losing their house elf... or it could be just an act, yes that must be it.

Dumbledore replied, "Not to worry, Mr. Dursley. Harry will be back in no more than a few hours." Vernon grunted.

"Fine", he mumbled, sending Harry a glare that could be easily read. With that said, the two wizards left.

"So, how are you, Harry?" Dumbledore asked as they walked to to apparition point.

"Fine." he responded.

A few seconds of silence passed before the headmaster spoke again.

"You realize, Harry, that we could not wait until you returned to school for this. With Voldemort on the move, we must be prepared for anything at any moment. We cannot continue as we were without securing your permission."

Harry nodded. Dumbledore grabbed hold of his arm, and they were gone, thankfully before Dumbledore could notice Harry's resulting flinch.

Harry fell with a loud thump, losing his balance and grimacing in pain. His back didn't hurt that much anymore, nothing he couldn't handle, but falling flat onto a concrete sidewalk was painful on a normal day.

He thought back to his uncle's words. If he were to tell someone what went on at Privet Drive, word would get out somehow, and the entire wizarding world would find out... but then he might not have to go back... but then he would be seen as weak and unable to defend himself from a Muggle... but then… argh... this was giving him a headache, and it wasn't worth all the trouble that snitching would cause, especially if they sent him back anyway. Any more threats to the Dursleys would probably kill him, and he wouldn't be surprised if the order actually knew what was happening. Dumbledore did have a way of just knowing things after all...

After thinking he location and having the house appear, Harry reached for the brass handle of the door to Grimwauld place. When it didn't shove him out onto the sidewalk, his new status was confirmed. He entered and was immediately overwhelmed with memories. Instead of Sirius' there to greet him, a thin layer of dust covered every inch of the dark empty hallway. He wanted to break down right there, but he didn't. He just looked at Dumbledore and wordlessly signed the bottom of the scroll that he was presented with. He didn't care to read it. He just wanted to get out of there. The scroll disappeared, probably flying through the ministry somewhere.

Without looking back, he and Dumbledore left the house. They made their way to the Dursleys' home in silence, Dumbledore well aware of Harry's sorrow. The Headmaster quickly apparated to Hogsmeade after bidding him goodbye at the door. Shortly after entering the house, Harry found himself in the now-familiar position of being smashed against the wall.

"What did you tell him?" asked Vernon.

Harry blew up, pushing his grief aside and welling up in anger. His voice starting out controlled.

"I. didn't. say. ANYTHING. LET GO OF ME!" He tried with all his might to break free from his uncle's grasp and succeeded by falling to the ground. Vernon was caught off guard and quickly tried to gather himself as he picked up the boy.
"Liar!" he said.

"I'm not lying! I didn't tell him anything!" Harry laughed darkly.

"Do you think I would still be here if I did?" Harry himself was not sure if this was true though.

Vernon huffed, throwing his nephew back to the ground, and leaving. Harry laid there for a few seconds before making his way back to Dudley's second bedroom.

"Where do you think you're going?" asked Vernon, as he made his way out of the kitchen.

"Up..." was all Harry said, pointing out the obvious.

"No, you're not! Just because one of those freaks got you out of your chores for a few hours, doesn't mean your excused from them. I want these finished today!" he said, handing Harry a list.

Harry grabbed the list and stalked outside, he wouldn't have been able to finish the list had he a full day. Ten minutes into cleaning the windows, he heard the steps of someone behind him. He turned around swiftly, bracing himself.

"Professor!" he exclaimed, confused.

"Hello, Mr. Potter. How are you doing?" said Professor McGonagall.

"Everything is fine. You didn't have to come, you know. Professor Dumbledore was here earlier."

"Yes, I heard you are heir to the Black estates. Congratulations." Harry nodded. McGonagall put a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Don't worry, Harry. Summer will be over soon. Don't dwell on the past too much; it's over and done with." She continued, more quietly this time. "Sirius would have hated to see you hurting like this Harry..."

They spoke quietly for a few more minutes before McGonagall had to leave. With a sigh, Harry resumed working until dizziness forced him down, the lack of food starting to catch up with him. He went inside for some water and then went upstairs. He wouldn't have been able to finish his chores anyway. He barely made it to the bed before passing out, wary of the days to come.

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