Return of the Rage
Twenty Fourth November Nineteen Ninety-Four
It was before the crack of dawn when Harry opened his eyes. He could hear it. His dreams and the screams. Swirling in a chaotic whirlpool, receding into the vast unknowable desert that was his subconscious.
He tried grabbing at the disappearing thoughts and they slipped past his mental grasp into nothing.
Harry yawned.
His awakening from sleep had been the same for the past six months. Thrilling chaos slipping from his grasp as soon as he woke up.
He took a deep breath and stretched his legs under warm sheets. A moment later he slid out of bed and dragged his feet to the window for a breath of the darkness before dawn.
The first touch of the cool wind against his eyes felt the like the jolt of an enervate charm and the world beyond filtered through his eyes.
It was pure darkness. A new moon night. Save for the candles dimly lighting the inside the dorm, it was a void that controlled the night. Peering into its heart was awe-inspiring.
A moment later the darkness was split apart by a line of blue and dawn arrived with breath-taking grandness.
The day of the first round of the duelling tournament had arrived and Harry was excited to see the duels just like the rest of the school. A stage were wizards and witches fought with magic to win? The idea fit into his view of the world like skin over flesh.
Harry grinned as he thought about the contestants. If there was one participant he was curious to see wield magic, it was Hitomi Murasaki. Magic flowed through her heavier than most. If magic looked like air in others, it looked like sludge in her. There was a thickness to it that Harry didn't understand and magic that he didn't understand fascinated him.
Feeling refreshed and wide awake, Harry gathered his school robes, neatly ironed and placed on his school trunk by the house elves who kept the school from falling apart. Harry hadn't encountered one so far but he knew they existed and were overseen by overseer and caretaker - Filch.
Half an hour later, he was dressed, washed and presentable. He cut a forgettable image in clean black robes above which sat long solemn face attached to a thin neck. His neat black hair that was kept respectably neat and pushed to one side revealing a pale lightning shape scar. The nurse had insisted on cutting it after the yearly physical examination. Harry hadn't protested. It didn't bother him whether his hair was long or short or not there at all.
He headed down to the great lake for a walk and noticed the red robed shadow that took position at a respectable distance from him.
Harry scowled.
The Aurors never gave up. He resisted the desire to turn around and slam that tall weak wizard into the wall until he was a beautiful shade of red.
His mood appropriately darkened, Harry stepped out of the castle as the grand entrance doors swung open without prompting. Hogwarts always opened its door for students. It was the professors who made the rules.
Harry smiled. Magic - pure and untainted was always a joy to be around and Hogwarts was filled to the brim with it. It was why he could call Hogwarts a home.
He strolled towards the lake amidst the glow of morning. Mist hung low over the green grass and thickened as his eyes trailed towards the forbidden forest. The knowledge of the red cloak behind him stayed his desire to return to his desert and instead he had settled under his favourite tree closest to the lake.
It felt like peace.
For a moment Harry entertained the idea of returning to the desert, the real desert. He contemplated leaving behind this life and embracing the harshness of the desert and magic. A year ago, he would have done it. He would have acted on his whims and fancies without second thought. But now, after all that had happened, he couldn't do it. He had a dream to fulfil now. A vision forged by the hands of those clawing at him… pulling on his skin… trying to change his colours. And after his green was activated, he had discovered ambition as well. The Will needed to change Dreams into Reality.
He was distracted by the sound of something splashing in the lake and the sound penetrated the soft silence of the sunrise and whispers of the little creatures awakening with the sun.
The something was someone who had jumped off the house on a boat anchored near the east shore and as Harry squinted and used magic to look closer, he noticed it was Victor Krum. The Drumstrang champion's head bobbed in the water as he swam with powerful arm strokes towards its far end.
The slam of wood against wood drew his attention to the column of five carriages near Hagrid's hut and the Beauxbaton champion jogged out wearing light blue jogging gear. Harry's attention was drawn to her. Her magic was different as well. All her colours looked like they were on fire and her orange was abnormally powerful. Harry had found himself needing to be careful not to get enchanted by its hypnotic pulse every time she came close to him. Her orange stirred his own and he felt odd sensations in his gut urging him to do something… anything. It was highly disconcerting and harry made it a point to away from the cream coloured lady with deep blue eyes.
Harry slowed his breathing and controlled his magic as she ran past him. Her blonde ponytail bounced as she ran and she spared a split second glance at him as she began her daily rounds of the lake.
He breathed in relief when she gained distance from him and turned his gaze on the large tent that was set up in the Quidditch grounds. The flag of the Koldovstoretz school fluttered high atop the centre pole.
The Hogwarts houses were not pleased when they learnt where the Russian students had set up camp. It had resulted in the Quidditch season being cancelled. The Tournament was the reason the season had been cancelled but for a visiting school to set up camp in holy grounds was just pouring salt on open wounds.
The students of Mahoutokoro had taken up residence with the Gryffindor's.
As the sun rose higher, one by one, more early risers began to trickle out of the castle. Activity gained energy and soon the sky turned bright and blue as the shadow of the morning sun began to stretch long. Dozens of owls began to be seen flying into windows clutching the Daily News in their talons.
A bell rang from within the castle signalling the start of breakfast and serving as a wakeup call to those still sleeping.
Harry's morning ritual complete, he stood up, dusted his robes and headed to the Great Hall for breakfast.
The red cloak dutifully followed him.
When Harry entered the hall and the eyes of the students reading the prophet noticed his presence and whispers began to slither across tables.
Harry narrowed his eyes. He saw the colours of fear and excitement. There was something in the news.
He reached the Ravenclaw table and saw a face he had forgotten about. It was Luna Lovegood.
She was wearing odd glasses that seemed to have a spiralling lens and had earrings with tiny radishes hanging off curved metal ends. Her pale blonde hair was left loose and messy and as long as she was tall. The white flicked over her head and sank into her vibrant colours with lazy precision.
She looked up when Harry came close and smiled. "Hello Harry," she said. Her voice was young and held a dream like quality.
"Hello," Harry replied evenly. He spared a curious look at her white and wondered if she was aware of it as he took the seat opposite her and turned open the plate on the table.
"I'm sorry about your childhood," she said sympathetically.
Harry blinked. "What?"
Luna glanced at the morning newspaper that the boys sitting close by were reading. They kept shooting looks at him varying from horror to fear and some in pity.
Harry narrowed his eyes. He opened the face of his palm and the third year boys squeaked when the Prophet was ripped out if their hands and zoomed towards Harry.
His eyes widened when he saw the headline.
It was the Rita Skeeter exclusive everybody had been waiting for and it was dimensions apart from what they had had in mind.
Harry's fingers crushed the edges of the paper as he began reading. The rage in the Void grew with every word he devoured.
The Tragedy of Number Four Privet Drive read the headline.
Harry's past had just been torn open by the Daily Prophet's acidic reporter and by the time the clock struck nine, Harry Potter had become the focus of Hogwarts and Magical Britain. His story eclipsed everything from the Civil War to the Duelling Tournament.
Those around him moved away in fear as an aura of danger began to shiver through the hall. Everyone assumed it was his reaction to the public revelation that he had killed his relatives to become a murder at the age of nine.
They were all wrong.
It was just two words in the article that triggered his rage.
"I was not abused nor was I traumatised," he hissed. The void sprang out of him with the intention of shredding everything in its path.
Students screamed as part of the table exploded in front of Harry.
He had been weak back then and the Dursley's had been stronger. It was that simple. Now he was strong and only the strongest survived. His rage focused into revenge and he made a promise.
"I am going to kill Rita Skeeter," he whispered.
"Harry Potter!" the Auror trailing him shouted in alarm when the table exploded into dangerous splinters. He had summoned a shield to protect the students close by and then pointed his wand at Harry with its tip glowing red. "Stand down!"
Harry didn't even bother lifting a finger and the Auror was hit was a force so powerful it sent him careening across the floor of the fall and he smashed into the Gryffindor table before losing consciousness.
Taking out the annoying red cloak following him all the time gave him a sense of satisfaction that he had long missed. It helped calm his rage down to the levels of a stormy sea.
Appetite lost, Harry got up to leave the hall and made his way to Dumbledore's office. The headmaster and he were going to have words about this.
A curious pair of coal coloured eyes tracked Harry's movement until he left the hall. "Who was that?" asked Hitomi Murasaki. She spoke slowly and carefully. Her English was not very good and it had a heavy Japanese accent. Hitomi took care not to make a mistake when speaking in a foreign language. She hated making mistakes. It was that trait of hers that led her to becoming Champion.
"Harry Potter," Hermione supplied helpfully. "Resident psycho of Hogwarts," she added humourlessly as she stared at the gruesome artist's rendition of a baby faced Harry Potter, sitting over a woman, holding a knife dripping with blood with a familiar crazy grin lighting his face with mad glee.
The truth of Harry Potter was finally out in the open.
Hitomi rubbed her forearms feeling goose-bumps as her magic reacted to his. "He is strong," she said with a gleam of interest. "He should be in the tournament."
Hermione gaped at the redhead. "Have you been reading this?" she exclaimed, pointing at the newspaper. "He's a murderer and a psychopath. It'll be a miracle if he's allowed to stay at the school now! I can't imagine parents are going to be happy about him being around their kids."
Hitomi smiled politely. "You are right," she agreed. "My apologies." Hitomi glanced at her friends from home and smiled at them knowingly.
"Master will not allow it Hitomi."
"He's the most powerful of them all," Hitomi replied with a grin. "Don't you want to fight him at least once?"
Hermione's eyes roved on the students from Mahoutokoro cluelessly as they spoke in their native tongue at a rapid and animated pace. They had a habit of communicating in their native tongue and it was obvious they were doing it on purpose. She thought it was quite rude.
Hagrid's Hut – Noon
"I'm going to kill her!" Harry raged. He was breathing heavily and his eyes were burning with the image of Rita Skeeter screaming in terror while prostrate before him. How dare she imply he was weak!
The news had taken Dumbledore by surprise as well. No one had seen it coming and no one knew how Skeeter had managed to unearth the secret that Dumbledore had tried so hard to protect. If anyone cared to ask her she would reveal her source to be Dudley Dursley without much protest. It hadn't been hard tracking down the sole survivor of Harry's killing spree and Rita had been surprised no one had hidden him away.
"You're going to go away," Dumbledore replied. "You have no idea how serious your situation has become. With your past laid bare there's no way for me to keep you at Hogwarts anymore."
Harry scowled.
"I don't care," he spat.
"You don't have to," Dumbledore said coolly. "You just have to lay low until I sort this mess out."
Harry scoffed.
"Professor Dumbledore," Harry said, his voice ripe with scorn. "I have laid low as you said. I have tolerated these people who are unworthy of calling themselves witches and wizards. I will tolerate it no longer. You can't let me believe that you think these wretched creatures are worth hiding from. I will crush them all! I will show them the true face of magic!"
"Calm down 'Arry," Hagrid said.
"It's not the time," Dumbledore said with steel in his voice. "You will gain nothing by killing Skeeter. You will only make things worse for yourself and the full power of Voldemort and the Ministry will fall upon you. No Harry. Not even you with your power will be able to stand up to that kind of might. Perhaps you will amaze and kill hundreds with your magic but make no mistake, if you act irrationally... you will fall."
Harry growled under his breath. The headmaster was right. He didn't have the power. The path to accessing the source was still frustratingly out of his grasp. Reason overpowered his rage and he realised there was no other way out of this quandary. He had to leave Hogwarts. He had to hide.
"Where will I go? Back to the Cottage?"
"Oh you're going to love this 'arry," Hagrid said excitedly. "You and I are going to Romania!"
Harry stared with a blank expression at Hagrid. "What's in Romania?" he asked Dumbledore.
"A safe place," Dumbledore said with a soft smile.
"And Dragons!" exclaimed Hagrid. "We're going to see the dragons 'arry!"
Harry's eyes widened fractionally. He turned towards Dumbledore with surprise.
"The Romanian dragon reserve is vast and its wards are practically air tight," Dumbledore explained. "You will be free to roam within its perimeter until the day comes when you have to return."
"And why will I want to return?" Harry asked softly.
Dumbledore laughed dryly. He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and looked into his eyes. "Because I will give you the chance to let loose with the might of an army behind you. All you have to do is be patient until the day of your trial. Now, can you do that Harry? Can you control your urge to kill and destroy until the time is right?"
Harry remained silent for a few seconds. His eyes became blank and expression unreadable as we weighed the pros and cons. "Does this mean I'm going to miss the tournament?"
Dumbledore rolled his eyes. "I'll show you the pensive memories if I have the time."
Harry smiled.
"Alright professor Dumbledore. I'll follow your tune... for now."