Chapter 1: Harry Disappears

This one should be short too. I'm in the middle of moving, and going on another vacation, so updates may be sporadic. Also, my muse is being finicky. She's doing the hokey-pokey in my brain.

Thanks for reading and reviewing.

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Harry Potter was more miserable than he had been in his fourteen years of life. He was going to be fifteen soon, but that was about a month away. He had just finished his fourth year at Hogwarts, and it was the worst year yet. The school had hated him for almost the entire year. Cedric died. Voldemort was back. Now he was being shunned by everyone. Even his family was ignoring him. They had never paid him much attention before, but they were flat out ignoring him now. Now the wizarding world thought he was crazy.

His friends weren't answering his letters, which hurt most of all. When he inquired as to why, he was told that it was for his own good. He had received that one letter telling him that and that they were together in a hidden location. He didn't understand that. How could being left to his own thoughts be for his own good? He needed his friends right now. He needed information about the bastard that killed Cedric.

Oh yeah, and the fact that Voldemort was back was a concern. He needed to know if his life was in more danger than it normally was. Should he tell his relatives to move? Should he be doing anything? He had been stewing in his thoughts for days and getting depressed more and more so by the moment.

The Daily Prophet vilifying him was making it worse. It made him feel like he was alone in the world. Like there would be no one there to back him when he needed to do whatever it was he needed to do. He wasn't even sure what that was anymore. Dumbledore just kept saying that he was important, but he didn't think so.

Making one last attempt to contact his friends, he wrote a letter to his best mate Ron, with an attachment to Hermione. In it he asked for information about Voldemort and Sirius. He figured that these men were the two most important ones in his life right now. Though he was starting to doubt Sirius felt the same. He hadn't heard from him either. He sent it off with Hedwig, giving her an extra scratch on the breast plate.

"Give this to Ron, girl. I'll give you some treats when you get back," he said, scratching her where she loved it the most. "Fly safe and come back to me. You're all I have left."

She preened at him and leaned into his fingers. Then she nipped at his fingers and took off. That was the last time he saw her for a long time.

He waited for three days and then finally broke down and cried. It was the first time in a decade that he had let tears leave his eyes. He had learned on his fifth birthday that crying got him nowhere and vowed that he'd never do it again. It was a sad day in his life, and now he just broke that vow. He curled into a ball and just let loose. He let all the hurt that had been plaguing him over the last four years of Hogwarts just free. He let all the pains of his living in this house out of its cage and howled internally. It had been eating him up for so long that it took on a life of its own.

All of it just lashing out into the room. Magic was filling the room, and it was a heavy thing. Even the muggles felt it. It was like an ozone layer was building up in that part of the house. Like an unseen mist drifting down the stairs and settling on everything. Comparatively to walking a graveyard on a full moon, when you know the werewolves are there and Death is their master.

Vernon and Petunia ran up the stairs to see what was happening, while Dudley hid behind the couch. Vernon had grabbed his shotgun from the closet near the door and was going to shoot that boy if he was doing anything freaky.

They got to the door, and tried to open it, but it was blocked by the magic that had built up in the room. Vernon put his shoulder into the door and got it open enough to see Harry on the bed surrounded by light. Then as he aimed the gun to fire on him, Harry disappeared.

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"What do you mean he's gone?" Sirius yelled at Dumbledore. He was standing in his kitchen at Grimmauld Place. They had been awakened by a wave of magic that had blasted throughout Britain. Every magical person in the country had felt it. No one knew what it had been, but they finally found out it came from #4 Privet Dr and that Harry Potter was gone.

Some rejoiced in this news, others lamented. It was a mixed bag of emotions, but everyone wanted to know what happened. The boy was gone, and no one knew how, why or where. According to the muggles, he simply disappeared. He was there one minute, a big flash of light, and gone the next. There were no strangers around, no other signs of magic, no spell residue. Just gone.

"I mean that the boy has disappeared," Dumbledore said with a sigh. His shoulders were slumped, and his eyes were not twinkling. "I simply do not know where he is. He is not on the British Isle anywhere. I have done all that is within my power to locate him, he is not in France, nor in Germany. Neither is he in the United States, or Canada. I have checked Africa and the Arabic countries. I do not have connections in many other countries to locate him. Australia states that he is not there either," he finished, rubbing his nose with aged fingers. He had called in many favors to get people to check their countries to see if Harry's magical signature was in their location. They all came back empty. Being on the ICW has its benefits, but not everyone there likes him. However, they are, for the most part, looking for the Boy-Who-Lived.

The only reason they knew Harry Potter was still alive was because his vault was still active at Gringotts. When the ministry tried to grab it, they were told that the owner was still alive and to bugger off.

"He can't have just disappeared off the face of the earth," Sirius stated, hating that his godson was gone. He was feeling extremely guilty. He had followed this old man's advice to leave the boy to his own devices and let him deal with his emotions on his own. He should have known better. He knew what it was like to stew in one's thoughts. But he was a weak wizard, who was feeling useless.

"I will find him," Albus stated, like it was fact.

"You'd better, because if he's dead, it's all your fault," the dogman said, growling at Dumbledore, done with his shite.

"Take care how you speak to me," the old man said, standing to his full height. "I can have you back in Azkaban with just a word."

"And I can have you on the street with just a word as well. I'm not helpless or useless either," Sirius said, standing up for himself. "If you don't find him I will." He said the words, but he didn't know how he was going to carry them out. He didn't have the resources that Albus had. He didn't have anything of Harry's to search with. He didn't know what he was going to do.

"Do what you must, my boy," the old man said, sighing once more. He knew the man was blowing hot air. Sirius Black was a neutered puppy, all bite but no teeth.

"I will be doing what I must," Sirius stated and turned and walked away. He went to the library and started searching for spells that he could use to find his godson.

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"What can we do?" Hermione wailed, tears flowing down her face. She was devastated. She felt it was entirely her fault. She hated to keep the information from Harry, but Dumbledore had told her it was too dangerous to write to him. She believed him. Now, Harry was gone, and no one knew where he was. Did he run off? Was he dead? Did he commit suicide? Did Voldemort capture him? Was it her fault?

They didn't tell the teenagers anything. They didn't know if Harry was alive or dead. Only that he was gone.

"We can't do anything," Ron said with complete indifference.

"Ron, this is important. Harry is gone," she snapped, tired of his lack of response. He had been all about leaving Harry out of the loop since they had come to Grimmauld Place. Ever since Harry won the tournament, Ron had been lackluster in his friendship again. She didn't know why, or what had happened, but she was fed up with it. "We have to find him. Don't you care what happens to him?" she asked, glaring at him like he had better.

"Sure, I do," he said, quickly, like he was afraid of her anger.

"Why don't I believe you?" she demanded, taking a step forward. "You have been acting like Harry is not important to you anymore. Why?"

"He's just doing this to get attention. Again," Ron said, getting angry. "He didn't have to win the tournament. He didn't have to go to the graveyard. If he hadn't then You-Know-Who would not be back, and he wouldn't be in danger… again. But, no, he had to go and share the win with Cedric, and now his life is in danger again and once more he's in the limelight." He was up and ranting, stomping around the room, like he had been holding this in for some time.

"You think he does that for attention?" Hermione all but yelled. Not believing what she was hearing. "That he wants his life to be in danger? What kind of warped brain do you have in that head of yours? No one wants that kind of stress in their lives."

"Who wouldn't want to be in the spotlight from time to time?" Ron asked, throwing up his hands, like everyone wanted that.

"That's neither here nor there, we need to think about now. We'll deal with your insecurity later. What are we going to do about Harry?" Hermione asked, pacing back and forth in front of the bed that Ron sat on when she yelled at him.

"What can we do? We're just some kids, Hermione. You may be a smart witch, but you're still a teenager," he said, rubbing his nose trying to think about if she was wise enough to do anything. Maybe they should go to the library. Sirius didn't mind Hermione going there. "Library?"

"Library." So, they went to the books' room and found Sirius there buried deep in the tombs, doing what they had planned on doing. "Sirius," Hermione said, sidling up to his table and pulling a book off his pile and starting to read. She gave Ron a pointed look and he took a book and did the same.

"What are you kids up to?" the dogman asked, not looking up from his book.

"Same as you, looking for Harry," she said, using her finger to keep her place as she sped read down the page.

"I hope you have better luck than I do," Sirius stated, slamming the book shut and moving it to the discard pile.

"Thanks," she said as she continued to read.

The three of them studied for hours and didn't find anything that could find someone not on the island they were on. If Harry weren't on the same block of land they were, they couldn't connect to him, not without an item of his. None of them had anything that belonged to him, or any example of his magical signature.

"Wait, we have Hedwig," Hermione said, getting up and running to the owlery.

The other two joined her. They ran up the stairs and found the owlery empty. Someone had gotten there first. Dumbledore.

"Dammit," Sirius spat. "The old man figured it out first," he said, thinking that the headmaster would use the owl to find Harry and drag him back. Then again, that's what they wanted to do. But they were doing it out of love, not for nefarious reasons.

"We have to find him," Hermione stated, desperate to find him now. She didn't know why but she felt that if the headmaster got to Harry first then it would be party over.

"I don't know how. We've exhausted the library, every spell we found required something of his as a focus," Sirius said, looking at Ron. "You've been his friend for four years. You don't have anything of his? Nothing he didn't own at least five minutes before he gave it to you?" He found that hard to believe. He still owned at least three things of James's, and he had been in prison for years.

"No, we didn't share our thi… wait, I do own something of his," Ron said, running down the stairs and getting out his Chocolate Card collection. He pulled out one of the cards, which was Alberic Grunnion, who he had been looking for. "He held onto this one for me for a while," he said, handing it over to Sirius so they could use it in one of the many rituals to find Harry.

"This will work," Sirius said, his voice full of hope. "I think we should try a spiritual ritual," he told Hermione.

"Why?" she asked, looking at him with a tilt of her head.

"That way if he is not on the continent, we can talk to his spirit and ask where he is. It will be like a dream sharing," the older man said, knowing that one of them would have to go into a meditative state. More than likely her, because his mind was too muddled, and he didn't trust that Ron kid. He had been too… standoffish lately.

"Alright, but you're going to have to put me under," she said, knowing how hard meditation was for her. She had a hard time clearing her mind. However, a guided meditation worked wonders.

"Sure, I can guide you," he said, giving her a smile. Remus was much the same way. Only his was emotionally and not intellectually. Not that the man wasn't smart, he just let his emotions get in the way of meditation.

"Okay, let's do this," Hermione said, going back down the stairs, since they were still standing in the owlery for some reason. Ron went with them for lack of anything better to do. They made it back to the library and found the ritual Sirius wanted to do. They then went to the basement, where the circle was. It was etched into the floor permanently.

"Sit in the center, and I'll talk you through the meditation, after I close the circle," Sirius said, watching her do just that. "Here, use the card and focus on Harry's signature. You should be able to tell his from Ron's. Ron's will be here, and Harry's will be elsewhere." That was the plan anyway.

She sat and watched him light five yellow candles, that were in the room, and then closed her eyes and listened to the sound of his voice lulling her into a state where she could let her mind drift off to find Harry. She did feel the two signatures and followed the one that wasn't in the room. It was going off into… space?

"Harry Potter, where are you?" she heard herself mutter under her breath when she reached her Zen state.

"I'm here, Hermione," a voice answered her in her head.

"Where is here?" Hermione asked, this time out loud, making Ron and Sirius look at each other.

"I'm not sure where, to tell the truth, but I'm happy and I'm with my parents," Harry said, sounding happy and peaceful.

"But you're alive, Harry. I don't understand. Your parents are dead, and you're alive, how can you be with them?" she inquired, her brow furrowing up. A thousand questions were going through her mind, but the number one priority was to see if he was coming back.

"I don't either. Magic? But that's not what's important right now," Harry said, and she got the impression of him waving his hand. "I need to come back soon. There's much to be done. I'm training here, so that I can fulfill my destiny. And it's not the one Dumbledore states," he finished.

"Harry, don't disparage Dumbledore," Hermione chastised, though her heart wasn't really in it.

"I'll be back in three days," Harry's voice said, and then he was gone.

"Bugger," she said, standing in the circle and frowning. She really shouldn't have scolded him. It was just a kneejerk reaction.

"Well?" Sirius asked, breaking the circle and helping her out of it.

"He said he'll be back in three days," she informed them. There was a smile on her lips and radiance on her face, she was so happy with that news.

The two males took that differently. Sirius was ecstatic, while Ron got grumpy.

"That's great. Did he say how?" Sirius asked, grabbing her hands in glee. He was going to go about treating Harry differently this time. He was going to buck up and be an adult. Well, he was going to try.

"No, just that he'd be back. He did say that he didn't know where he was, only that he was with his parents and that he was training for his destiny," Hermione said, gently retracting her hands from his grip.

"To kill You-Know-Who?" Ron asked, thinking that could be the only thing the Boy-Who-Lived was good for.

"That's just it, he said it's not what Dumbledore states it is, so I don't think so," she answered with a frown.

"What else could it be?" Sirius wondered, rubbing his goatee.

"I don't know," she said.

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The trio didn't tell anyone that Harry was going to return. Ron did so under duress. He wanted to tell Dumbledore right away, but Hermione and Sirius shot him down. It was a moot point anyway, the old man never showed up at Grimmauld Place during that time. However, he had been forbidden from telling his mum. That had been hard to prevent.

Three days later, Harry just appeared right in the middle of dinner. He walked right into the kitchen and sat next to Hermione and started serving himself some food. Like he'd been there the whole time.

"Harry James Potter, just where have you been!" Molly shouted, standing and leaning forward on the table.

"Don't know. None of your business. Take your pick," Harry said, and then took a bite from his meal of mashed potatoes and roasted chicken. He looked around the room at the shocked faces. He shrugged and started eating with gusto. He was starving, he hadn't eaten in days. There was no food where he was, though he really hadn't needed to eat, but he was very hungry now.

"Don't you talk to me that way, young man," Molly yelled at him, ready to strike him. "I didn't raise you to…"

"You didn't raise me at all," Harry said, stopping that statement before it got started. "I met my parents, and you are not them. Anyway, I'm back and that's that. I have things I have to do and answering your questions is not one of them," he stated, then continued to eat his food.

"What do you mean you met your parents?" Sirius asked, looking beyond confused. "They're dead." There was guilt in his tone when he stated that. It was something he had not let go of yet. Years of Azkaban saw to that.

Harry looked at his godfather. He had a deeper understanding of that man's plight now. His father explained it better to him. He knew that the Dementors had really screwed with the man's head, and he was little better than a teenager himself. "I met them when I was gone," he said with some sympathy. "They send their love, by the way. They don't blame you for anything," he added, giving his godfather a look that conveyed that love.

Sirius just sat there and cried. After a few minutes, he shoved away his plate and left the table.

"I hope you're proud of yourself," Molly stated, glaring at him.

"For what?" Harry looked at her confused.

"For making that man cry," she said like it was obvious.

"He's happy, so yes," the teenager said, finishing off his last chicken leg and loading his plate with some vegetables.

"Stop eating and start talking," Molly said, reaching over the table to grab his plate, only to be met with a shield.

"Leave me and my food alone, you old bitch," Harry stated, looking at her with some hate in his eyes. He really was getting tired of her nagging. He looked around the table again and could see that her kids didn't like that he had said that to her. "Look, I had a long week, I'm hungry, let me eat."

"Harry," Arthur said, trying to stop the fight, "why don't you tell us your story." He hated it when Molly got pushy and drove people off.

"No," was all the teenager said as he continued to eat.

"Whyever not?" Mr. Weasley asked, taken aback. Harry usually was more compliable. He didn't like confrontation any more than he did. Harry usually backed down before it came to a fight, unless there was a life on the line.

"Because it's none of your business," Harry said, pushing his plate away, having shoveled all that food down quickly.

"Is it mine?" came the question from the doorway.

Dumbledore had arrived.