Cross My Heart

I don't know
But it seems that every single dream's
Painted pretty pictures in the air
And it tumbles in despair
And it starts to bend
Until by the end its a nightmare

But I'm gonna give all I've got to give
Cross my heart, and I hope to live

I don't know

But I feel the safety isn't real, with everybody acting all the same

Or the rules will ruin the game

So I'll go my way, laughing while they say that I'm insane.

Yes- I'm gonna give all I've got to give

Cross my heart, and I hope to live

I don't know

But I find the speedy hands of time waving out a warning on the wall

But nobody heeds the call

And the soldier obeys while the parson prays for his downfall.

But- I'm gonna give all I've got to give

Cross my heart, and I hope to live

I don't know
But it's true, so many things you do
Please you so they leave feeling warm
It's the calm before the storm
For the habit grows and before you know it you're deformed

Yes I'm gonna give all I've got to give
Cross my heart, and I hope to live

I don't know
But I see that every thing is free
When you're young and treasures you can take
But the bridge is gonna break
You reach the end screaming
"It's all been a mistake";

But I'm gonna give all I've got to give
Cross my heart, and I hope to live

I don't know
But it seems that every single dream's
painted pretty pictures in the air
Then it tumbles in despair
And it starts to bend
Until by the end its a nightmare

Oh I'm gonna give all I've got to give
Cross my heart, and I hope to live

Chapter One: Harry

Reasons I hate Summer:

1. I live with the Dursleys.

2. They locked me in my room for a week when I got home from school.

3. They let me out to do housework.

4. Dudley's an idiot.

5. Vernon's an idiot.

6. Aunt Petunia must have invented the word "obnoxious" to describe herself.

7. The food is terrible.

8. Snape is a sadistic bastard. This is the most impossible potions essay I have ever seen.

9. All Ron and Hermione talk about in their letters is each other. Unless Hermione is talking about O.W.L.s.

10. There are 338 individual windowpanes at the Dursleys, and I've cleaned every last one of them. Twice.

11. Dirt from the garden is permanently embedded in my fingernails.

12. I have this white streak on my arm from where I painted the fence, and it won't go away.

13. I got a burn from the washcloth where Aunt Petunia tried to scrub the paint off of me.

14. There's this evil wizard after me who wants to kill me for reasons that no one will tell me and now I've got to stay here when I'd much rather be at Ron's house where people actually like me and want to have me around.

My list probably could have continued indefinitely, but my pen had run out of ink. Sighing, I sat back and pushed the paper to the side. It was a good place to stop anyway.

Since Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia locked me in here when I first got back, I started writing things down. Not like a diary or anything, just kind of something to keep me company. I had little piles of papers and parchments all over the room, filled with lists and half-coherent ramblings. They all had titles too, like "Reasons Why I'm Not Responsible for Cedric's Death" and "Reasons Why I Am Responsible for Cedric's Death" and "One Hundred and One Ways to Capture Peter Pettigrew and Free Sirius", which began with "1. Get a large mousetrap and a camera" and ended with "101. Invite Voldemort and his Death Eaters to the Circus and hope that Wormtail is the only one dumb enough to show up. Get trained lion to eat him." My personal favourite was a list entitled "Nasty Personal Habits that Cornelius Fudge Probably Partakes In".

Solitary confinement was doing wonders for my sanity.

It only lasted a week, though, which was good. Apparently the Dursleys decided that I was more useful doing housework than I was sitting in my room. That and the neighbours had started asking after me.

I was shocked that anyone had noticed. They must have seen me out working in the yard one of the few times that I was let out. It was only my second week home, and my first week out of my room, and already several different neighbours asked me for my help around their houses. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia tried to protest, telling them I was no good, that I went to St. Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys, and that I was mixed up in all kinds of nasty things. Mrs Weasley told Uncle Vernon about the Tri-Wizard Tournament; I had wondered why she was standing so close to him when I got off of the train. Even though she had apologised for Fred and George feeding Dudley a Ton-Tongue Toffee, the Dursleys still held me responsible. As soon as I was in the car on the way home from the station, Uncle Vernon was shouting at me for exposing Dudley to "those people" and for killing Cedric.

As if I had needed him to blame me too.

I knew it really wasn't my fault. I couldn't have known that the Cup was a portkey. I knew that I couldn't have, but every time I thought that, a little voice in the back of my head said, "But you should have. You should have known. You were so focused on winning, so focused on beating Cedric, that you forgot that the whole Tournament was a set up. You forgot that some one was after you. You never really even tried to figure out who wanted you dead, or why, did you? You just thought that it was cut and dry 'Kill the Boy Who Lived', didn't you? Well you won, Potter. Does it feel any better?"

The voices in my head are full of eloquent recriminations. I looked that word up in one of the dictionaries Dudley never opened. My bedroom was filled with books that Dudley had never read or wanted. I'd read quite a few of them during my time locked in my room.

It was all part of my master plan, or rather, the only plan I had. The way I saw it, I had two options: sit on my arse and wait for Voldemort to get me, or get ready. I knew he was coming either way.

Couldn't really think of a good reason to get ready, other than that I needed to. Somewhere along the line during my four years at Hogwarts I absorbed that crazy idea that everyone else had; Harry Potter was the only thing standing between Voldemort and World Domination.

Did that mean I was closer to world domination than Voldemort?

I shook that thought from my head quickly. I didn't want world domination, no matter who was dominating. I wanted to live in a cave, and maybe play Quidditch and see Ron and Hermione and the Weasleys and Sirius every once in a while.

Well, sometimes I did, so long as it had a comfortable bed. Those four poster beds at Hogwarts spoiled me. Took me ages to get used to sleeping on something so soft, and now I love it. All I really need is a quality mattress.

In retrospect, that sounds kind of bad.

Anyhow, there was a plan, and it did not involve living in a dirty cave and sleeping on a comfortable mattress there. I promised myself as I got off of the Hogwarts Express at the end of last term that I would be ready for him when he came. Ready was loosely defined as anything that was smarter, stronger, faster, and more capable than I was, which was not very at all, in my opinion.

I practically felt like I was turning into Hermione, what with all my reading and whatnot. I had finished all my homework during my week locked in my room, except for that stupid potions essay. I wanted that thing perfect, and it was hard.

How to Get Ready for Voldemort

1. Learn curses.

2. Find out why he wants to kill me in the first place.

3. Get stronger. (See "How to Get Stronger" list)

4. Learn Everything. (See "How to Get Really Smart Before School Starts Again" list)

5. Think smarter (See "How to Get Really Smart Before School Starts Again" list)

When you have to cross-reference your lists, you know you have a problem.

I was doing really well on pretty much everything on that list besides number 2. Granted I didn't know everything, and I still looked like a twelve-year-old, but that was all right, because I had developed these really scarily disproportionate arm muscles. When my arms were relaxed I looked like a toothpick, but when I flexed my biceps I looked like I was wearing a too-tight shirt stuffed with soup cans.

I flexed for myself everyday after my shower. It made me feel better, even if I did look like a fool.

I looked at the clock. I had an hour before I had to be at the Colemans' house to help them with their attic. I might as well get some reading done. I picked up my Defence Against the Dark Arts book and began to review, but my mind wasn't on the reading.

Reasons Why Voldemort Might Have Wanted to Kill Me in the First Place

1. Dad and Mum were up to something that he didn't like.

2. He didn't like Potter males for some reason- said he wouldn't kill Mum.

That's all I had come up with so far. Two stupid, measly little reasons. Why in the world Voldemort would come to Godric's Hollow, where ever that-

Godric's Hollow. Godric Gryffindor? And where had I heard that before?

I dropped my Defence book and dashed to my trunk. I hadn't been making much progress in my revisions anyway. I threw open my trunk and dug through it to find the book I was looking for. There it was, Quidditch Through the Ages. I'd reread this for the umpteenth time just last week. I was sure I'd seen.

There. Bowman Wright. Specialized in charming metals. I couldn't really see the point in specializing in that. Besides snitches, what else would you want to charm? Maybe fences, gates, hinges. You could charm knives, I supposed. All right, there were a lot of metal things you could charm. Whatever.

Bowman Wright of Godric's Hollow. Well, I didn't know if there were any Wrights in my family. I doubted Aunt Petunia would know, and she probably wouldn't tell me if she did.

Godric's Hollow must be a town, then, a village of some kind. It wasn't just the name of my parents' house, if other people lived there too. For some reason when I had found out my parents had lived in Godric's Hollow I had thought of it as some kind of cottage-type place, set in a nice wooded clearing miles away from everything. Of course it was large, but now manor large, but large enough for several people to live there comfortably. Plus, it couldn't have been their regular home. I mean, they wouldn't have been stupid enough to live where they always had, would they?

They lived in a town. I found a pen that still had ink and added this to my list of things I knew about my parents.

What I Know About My Parents

1. Dad was an animagus- stag

2. His wand was mahogany, good for transfiguration according to Olivander

3. Mum's wand was willow, good for charms acc. to Olivander

4. They were head boy and girl

5. I look just like Dad, except for Mom's eyes.

6. Dad's friends were Sirius, Remus, and Peter (the bastard)

7. Mum's family were all Muggles until her.

8. Dad's family was magic.

9. Dad was a nice person.

10. Hagrid says Dad and Mum were some of the nicest people he knew.

11. Dad had an invisibility cloak, which are rare, so his family must have had money.

12. Dad and Mum left me a lot of money, so they must have had good jobs.

13. Dad had a big sense of humour.

14. Dad hated Snape, but saved him anyway, which is why Snape hates me.

15. Dad and Mum lived in Godric's Hollow- a town

Having written the hyphen and two words, I set down my pen and stared at the list. It barely told me anything. I didn't know what they liked or didn't, besides Snape. I knew that they were "nice" and probably smart, but still stupid enough to hide in a town. I thought of writing to Sirius.

I checked the clock. No time. I was due at the Colemans in five minutes.

I would have plenty of time for writing letters when I was done there. It wasn't as if the Dursleys wanted me for any stimulating conversation.