Harry Potter and the Rise of the Phoenix

Chapter Two ~ The Most Unforgivable of Curses

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Oh God,
Under the weight of life
Things seem brighter on the other side.
No way out of here.
Rain in my dreams.
~Dave Matthews Band: Big-Eyed Fish

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Harry sat on his bed and looked at the package Snape had sent him sitting on his desk. Reaching over, Harry un-wrapped the brown paper and looked at the carefully packed vials of the blueish Dreamless Sleep Potion. There was a small note attached.

Mr. Potter--

I just received your message and have sent two doses. Use them when you want. I don't know how they will affect you. I had wanted to test you further and ask more questions, but I did not get the opportunity.

If the first dose affects you as it did the last time, DO NOT take the second one. I will have to test you further and find out why this is happening. If you find these doses too weak, we can speak of the other option.

--Professor Snape

Two doses; how would he survive this stay? And yet, Harry hadn't even expected to receive one dose. The fact that Snape sent two was a surprise. Now the question became when to take them. One tonight, that was for sure. And the second one... Some evening after a night of horrible nightmares. What happens if it works oddly? As long as he didn't wake up screaming--no, as long as he didn't scream at all, Harry really didn't care.

Changing into his pajamas, Harry thought about Vernon a bit more. He wasn't frightened of his uncle like he used to be, but he was wary of the larger man. Vernon would become very testy if he didn't get an un-interrupted night's sleep soon. Harry didn't like when Vernon got testy. What would happen if he woke his uncle up every night until he left? Harry didn't really want to find out, if he didn't have to.

Grabbing the first vial, Harry drained it in one gulp, grimacing slightly at the horrid aftertaste. He slipped off his glasses and climbed under the covers. Time would only tell. Yes, time would only tell.

Just ten more days, was Harry's last thought before the potion put him to sleep. Only ten days.

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Harry woke up six and a half short hours later. They were short, but not peaceful hours spent asleep. Nightmares had haunted what was supposed to be his dreamless sleep. The question now was: Had he screamed?

Shrugging, for he really didn't care, Harry got dressed. What occupied his mind, instead, were the memories of the nightmares. There were old ones and there were new ones. Nightmares caused by the grave-yard, some caused by Sephra's parents' murder, the attacks on the Weasleys, the deaths of the Joneses, and the attack on Diagon Alley. However, these were all old and he had long dealt with the shock they gave him. It was the new memories that inspired the worst nightmares.

Several were like the one from the night before, where Harry actually thought he was in that cell. Memories turned into nightmares: memories of the torture, memories of the interrogations, and memories of Him. All perfect ingredients for the worst nightmare imaginable. Other nightmares included the visions of Ginny or Ron being tortured. Life turning out as it shouldn't. And Harry's all time favorite, the Death Parade, which was worse then ever since He had messed with Harry's mind.

Packing the second dose safely in the box Snape had sent, Harry wrote a quick note explaining why it was being returned. Glancing at Hedwig's cage, Harry realized she was still out hunting. He checked the clock and was surprised that it was only seven. Too early to go downstairs for breakfast. Yet, not too early to look at his mum's gift.

Harry knelt down and loosened the floorboard under his bed. He removed the shoebox and lifted off the cover. Shifting through the pictures and different notebooks, he took out one of the Wild Goddesses notebooks.

GW thinks that GF needs to admit to herself that she is head over heals in love with JP.

GM agrees completely with GW. The sooner you admit this to yourself, GF, the better off you two will be. Not to mention that RL will be able to study, seeing as JP will no longer need to plan insane plans to win you over.

GF has decided that GW and GM are insane and largely mistaken. You saw what JP and SB did to SS. Gees, how could anyone like, let alone love, those bullies. How in the world does RL put up with them?

I wonder this also. Would GM be willing to enlighten us?

Well, I must stress to the other two WG's that SB and JP are only bullies around SS and other darker Slytherins. I have also been informed by RL that SS hung SB and JP upside-down last week. Also, SB and JP spent that night in the hospital wing with loads of cuts and major blood loss caused by SS.

So, you're saying that SS got what he deserved.

What would you have done if SS did that to one of us?

*deep sigh* Point taken. GW, you're being awfully quiet on this.

Not much to say. They're all stupid males.

Too true.

So if we're done with the attack on me, where were you last night, GW?

*silence*

You can tell us, GW. It's not like we tease GF too much about her JP problem.

I DON'T HAVE A JP PROBLEM!

*after glancing around for any professors or eavesdroppers, GW steals notebook from GF, hurriedly writes downs confession, (well, will once I'm through with this) and passes it to other WG's (well, once I'm finished with the confession, I will)* I kissed SS last night.

*reads comment hurriedly* *STUNNED SILENCE*

*cue chirping crickets* And...

*takes deep breath and launch into my tale* Well, seeing that GM and GF are such great friends, you have noticed my absences lately. Well, I've, um, been getting, um, extra potions help.

Why didn't you come to me? *hurt anger*

Well, um, I guess I should call them what they were... which were dates... And um...

And?

*shrugs*

This will be interesting. In the far corner, we have Lily Evans, contemplating the best way to "tear up" JP's picture and in the other corner we have Samantha Prewitt, contemplating the best way to snog SS, JP's sworn enemy....

HEY! Who said anything about snogging?

AND WHAT ARE THOSE QUOTES SUPPOSED TO MEAN?

Nothing.... *starts backing away*

That entry ended and Harry sat back, wondering about it. So Snape had done something to deserve that taunting after the Defense O.W.L. test. Not that it made it okay for them, but at least it wasn't as isolated as he had thought. Harry's mind moved from there to the most disturbing thought he had had in a while.

Snogging Snape! One unbelievably nasty thought. One Harry didn't really want to dwell on. Though... Did this mean that his guesses about Thia's Sam, Mrs. Weasley's Samantha, and his mum's Sam were correct?

Harry had noticed the number of pictures of James that his mum had the shoebox. Thia and Sam brought up Lily's secret crush often. Maybe Lily had always had a crush on James. Who knew? Picking up another notebook, Harry let it fall open on his bed. It was toward the start of the book, thus the start of the year.

*excited squeal* QUIDDITCH GAME TOMORROW! ! ! ! !

*bored yawn*

WHAT IS UP WITH YOU LUPINS? JP and SB complain about RL all the time. Neither of you Lupins show the GREATEST game in the world enough respect!

Does JP say that?

SHUT UP! I can't believe you two think I LIKE him! And don't change the subject. YOU NEED TO SHOW THE PROPER RESPECT FOR QUIDDITCH!!

Hey! Don't attack just me! Sam's actually sleeping!

*clutches at heart* asleep? ASLEEP! Tonight on the eve of a QUIDDITCH game? *dramatic sigh* THE ABSOLUTE HORROR!

Girl, good friend, GF, Lily, you need to hurry up and kiss James. Transfer some of this obsessive energy into your other, more healthy obsession.

Other one? I don't have another one.

*rolls eyes* If you say so. So who are you playing?

*horrified silence*

What did I say now?

How can you, after fives years as my friend, not know that the first game is always, forever and ever, amen, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin? I mean, come on! Duh!

Sorry, I'm not a freak like you.

At least I don't have the hots for a certain boy with the initials SB. Or any of the other Marauders for that matter.

*rolls eyes* At least I'm willing to ADMIT when I have a crush, no matter how ego-driven, big headed, and a huge trouble maker he may be.

*looking at the loving look that has crossed GM's face as she speaks so negatively of her SB causes me to puke* Who would want to admit that shameful thing? If you want, I can put in a good word with SB. Well, if we lose then I'm not going anywhere near that boy. He's got a nasty temper. *thinks about losing to SLYTHERIN* Then again, you'll have to save me. Just thinking about losing to them makes me majorly depressed. Check the Astronomy Tower.

Why? *confused and worried*

Might jump.

Oh, well, don't do that.

*laughs* I won't, GM, I won't. Wish GW was awake.

*glances at GF's calculating expression as she stares at GW* Why? *confused and worried*

I just wanted to find out who she's cheering for.

What does that matter?

If she cheers for Slytherin... *motions threateningly at the still sleeping GW*

Her boyfriend is the beater.

And her housemates make up the whole of the other team, not to mention that one of them is her ROOM MATE, BEST FRIEND, FELLOW WILD GODDESS, and the only reason she has PASSED CHARMS THE PAST FIVE YEARS!

Good points.

Anyways, how would she explain herself to the other students? It's not like they're "public." I wish I knew why that is. Is he ashamed of her, even if she's a pure-blood? Then again, she's a pure-blood from a long line of blood traitors and friends with, excuse my language, but I quote, "a mudblood."

True, but most pure-blood fanatics wouldn't even touch, let alone date, one such as her.

Is he just pretending to be an evil jerk?

With a dad like his, I'd sure pretend 'til I got out of that house.

What do you mean?

Mr. Snape is, how shall I put it, an old school chum of Voldie's.

I wish you wouldn't call him that.

Voldie-Moldie, My dad's calling him that at work.

He's going to get himself killed.

*shrugs* It comes with his job. He's just giving people who don't want to call Voldie Voldemort another choice. One way or the other, he's on Voldie's to kill list.

But does he have to egg Voldie--meh! Now you have me saying it--Voldemort on?

He says it helps with morale if the Aurors don't act afraid of Voldie-Moldie.

*rolls eyes* Okay, whatever. Now, back to the Snapes.

My dad figures Mr. Snape was one of the first DE. And, well, he agrees whole heartedly with Voldie's views on half-bloods, muggle-borns, blood traitors, and half-breeds. If SS isn't like his dad, then the smart thing to do is appease the man until he's legal and can get out.

Shouldn't SB do that then?

No. The Blacks aren't the Snapes. They actually have a shred of a conscience, whereas Mr. Snape is evil through and through. I've met SB's mum, at Ministry functions and I'd have to say, and I know SB will agree, that she would never use the Unforgivables. I've also met Mr. Snape at such things, and I can very easily see that... man... using the Cruciatus on his own son in front of everyone right in the middle of all those Ministry officials and Aurors.

Kinda makes a person feel sorry for SS.

I've always felt bad. Even RL does, and SS spends every free hour trying to get him and his friends suspended.

Yeah, but right now I'm in the hate-all-Slytherin-players mode, so the fact that I feel even an ounce of pity says something.

You put too much importance on a game.

And you not enough!

Great come back... *snickers*

*ignores snickers* Thank you!

Wanna place a bet.

Sure.

*hides book from GF's prying eyes* If Gryffindor wins, you have to full on kiss JP. *shows her*

Nope.

Come on!

NO!

Chicken.

Why thank you.

Please?

I'll rig the game if I agree to this.

How's that?

I'd tell JP that I was coerced into agreeing to kiss SS if we won.

You would jeopardize your entire Quidditch season just to get out of this bet?

Yes.

Fine. If you end up in the hospital wing then you have to full on kiss JP.

Fine. And if JP ends up in the hospital wing, you and GW can't mention "my JP problem" as you so lovingly call it for a month and a day.

I can't promise anything for GW, but I'll hold my---

"Whatcha got there, Harry?"

Harry jumped several feet into the air and had his wand out and pointing at where the voice had come from before he had landed. Standing in his doorway was--"Thia?"

"Yes, now put that away before you poke someone's eye out with it!" Thia smiled and moved into the room. Harry had a hard time picturing her as the teenager that had just made a bet to hook up his parents. She stopped at the foot of his bed and stared at the notebook in his lap. "Are those the WG notebooks?" she asked softly. Harry nodded. "Lily's gift?" He nodded again. "You opened it then?"

"Obviously," Harry answered as he rolled his eyes at her.

"I thought those had burned with Godric's Hollow," Thia responded, still in shock. She sat on the end of his bed and picked one up, stroking the cover fondly. "All this time, when I've been wishing for them, they were right on my fireplace mantel, waiting for you to open them!" She looked at the one in her hand and then Harry noticed her slight tremor. "You read what we wrote at the start, right? About us not being perfect and doing stuff we shouldn't have? And not hating us for it?"

"Yes," Harry responded. "Nice preface."

"Just remember it, 'cause we do some stupid things," Thia told him earnestly. "What were you reading?"

"The entry before the first Quidditch game your sixth year," Harry responded. Thia's face broke into a huge grin. "How come you didn't like Quidditch?"

"Oh, I do, and so does Remus," Thia assured him. "We both found it amusing to wind Lily, James, and Sirius up like that. Nothing brought us more joy. That's the game I put a wager on her health, right? If she got hurt--"

"She'd have to kiss my dad," Harry finished for her. "Did she?"

"No," Thia replied with a laugh. "They didn't have their first kiss for almost a year after that. Sometime mid-October, she would never tell us when, almost as if it was too... something... to share. I could never tell if it was a good memory or not. You'd be surprised how often Lily spoke of the bad things with as much love as the good," she told him, but she eyed the notebooks near him carefully. "You'll probably want to read the seventh book with blinders on; Lily got rather annoying about her and James in it. And once in awhile in the eighth there are things that you really don't want to read... actually, I should check that out." Thia grabbed one of the grubby notebooks and started paging through it as if she had held it in her hands just yesterday. Searching for whatever she was looking for completely took her attention away from Harry.

"So, did my dad end up in the hospital wing?" Harry asked, trying to find out more.

"Yes, they both did actually," Thia said absently. She had taken her wand and was running it across a few of the lines in the notebook.

"Then why didn't they kiss?" Harry asked stunned.

"Well, Lily said that both of them in the hospital wing cancelled the other out," Thia answered. Harry thought her answer through; it didn't make any sense.

"What?"

"Because, Lily ended up there and James ended up there, she said that we both lost the bet and we both won the bet," Thia explained. "She so desperately didn't want to kiss James that I gave up pushing her, and instead teased her mercilessly about her 'JP problem' for the next month and a day." Harry laughed at this and was about to ask her for more details, but his stomach growled instead.

"When's the last time you ate?" Thia asked, looking at him sternly.

"Last night, with you guys," Harry replied after some thought. That spaghetti dinner seemed like ages ago. He checked the clock and was surprised that it was 9:30. "I was waiting to go eat."

"Why?" Thia asked shrewdly. "They aren't starving you, are they?"

"No," Harry replied tiredly. "I would just rather not eat with them. Come on, I want to go eat. We can talk there." He stood and led Thia out of the room, down the stairs, and into the kitchen, where, unfortunately, Aunt Petunia was busy baking.

Harry silently took out a bowl, spoon, milk, and cereal. Putting the milk away when he was done with it, Harry felt his aunt's gaze on Thia. Deciding to ignore the tension, Harry sat down and ate his cereal. Soon, though, he realized that Petunia never made a pudding quite like that, unless they were having company. "Who's coming over?" Harry asked, trying but failing to sound polite.

"Colleagues of your uncle's from work," Petunia replied in a cool, crisp tone. Obviously she didn't care that Thia was in the room. "You will not ruin this for Vernon like you did with the Masons. You are, of course, not invited. You will either stay in your room or go outside and wait until they leave. Do you understand?"

Thia stared at the woman with undisguised anger; she had not expected Petunia to treat Harry like this. He just shrugged, chewing on his soggy meal.

"Do you understand?" Petunia asked again, colder then ever.

"Whatever," Harry replied with a yawn.

"Don't take that tone with me, boy," Petunia said brandishing her wooden spoon as if it was a sword. "You're already making his job harder, what with your constant screaming again last night. He is vying for a promotion to vice-president, don't you dare ruin this! Do you understand?" Harry looked at her and wondered what the worst she could do to him was. It's not like she could top what the Death Eaters had accomplished. With that thought, Harry looked back at Thia. She looked him in the eyes and her temper increased tenfold as she remembered why she could so easily see into his mind.

"How--dare--you--threaten--him!" Thia managed to get out between her gritted teeth. Harry saw the grip on her wand tighten and he decided that it wouldn't be very prudent for the head of the Aurors to kill or even hurt a Muggle, even if that Muggle was Aunt Petunia.

"I understand you, Aunt Petunia, don't worry, I do," Harry answered, pretending that Thia hadn't said anything. "I'll be in my room, let me know when they're about to arrive so that I can get out if need be. Come on, Thia. Let's go talk about the WG's in my room." Thia let him guide her out of the room, back up the stairs and into his room. "Calm down."

"Why do you just let them walk all over you?" Thia demanded instantly.

"Because, no matter what Dumbledore says, I'm a guest in this house. A stranger," Harry explained. "I ruin their perfectly normal lives and, of course, they're gonna hate me for it. In ten days, I'll say goodbye to them, and them to me (maybe), and then we'll never see each other again. And we're gonna be better off for that. I can put up with their crap for two weeks, let's just hope they can put up with me that long. Now, I thought you said you had to work."

Thia shook her head, impressed with the insight Harry had of the situation. "I am working. I told them that I had a top-secret mission to do for the war and they let me go. I think you agree with my excuse." Harry nodded and waited for her to continue. "Let's get your lesson out of the way and then we can move on to more important matters, like the WG's."

The lesson was difficult to say the least. Instead of just learning to defend against outside intruders, Thia had decided to teach him an even more obscure branch of an already obscure area of magic, how to defend one's mind from itself. She hoped that with enough practice, Harry would be able to get rid of most of the nightmares. He sure hoped so.

When they were done, Harry sat with his sore head in his hands. The mental workout had tired him out substantially. Thia sat at his desk, skimming through the eighth notebook. There was a reminiscing look on her face, the faint smile making her look decades younger. Harry saw the girl, GM, who had written in there.

"Anything I should definitely read in there?" Harry finally asked. Thia looked up, startled. Harry smiled; she had forgotten that he was in the room.

"Just read it," Thia answered. "Nothing comes to mind in particular. Remus isn't allowed to read this. That I know we all agreed to. Actually, on the last page of each book is a list of people who couldn't. Teachers and the Marauders were always on the list."

"Why were the Marauders not allowed to?"

"We did so much Marauder bashing we thought it prudent that they didn't read it," Thia answered with a laugh. "Man," she said, looking back at the first WG notebook, "we were so naïve back then. Nothing worried us, beyond school work and the Marauders. I wished it could of stayed that way."

There was a comfortable pause as Thia read the notebook from her first year at Hogwarts. Harry pulled out the letter his mum and dad wrote and then finally decided to show it to her. "Thia, read this." She reached across and took the letter. He watched the surprise, the sorrow, the laughter, and deep longing cross her face as she read it. Her best friend wrote that letter. Thia had lost as much, if not more, during that first war compared to Harry's small loss. She got to James' letter and let out a laugh. Her face grew grave, and Harry knew that she had gotten to the part about the god-sibling.

"You said you lost it that November, back at Christmas, didn't you?" Harry said softly. He had wanted to ask this last night, but hadn't wanted to ruin the evening.

"Yes," Thia said softly. "It was another reason why I didn't start watching over you until that December. I'd forgotten about the fights we'd had over her gender." Thia smiled at the surprise on his face. "Yes, Lily and I were right, it was a girl. I had already known that that October, but I kept it to myself. I wanted Sirius to be surprised when she was born."

"What did you name her?" Harry asked, looking at his hands.

"Hope Black," Thia replied with a smile. "I had Sirius agree to that name, should it be a girl. Not the prettiest together, but Hope just fit. That's what we lived for, what we wished for: our hope for ourselves and our children. He, of course, wanted the boy to be named Sirius Jr." Harry laughed with her. "I said no way; I'd never name my children after either of us."

"Have you talked to Dumbledore about bringing letters from Ron, Hermione, or Ginny?" Harry asked without meeting her eyes. He didn't want her to know how desperate he was just to see a note from his friends.

"Tonight, when I meet with him," Thia responded. "That's the other reason for today's lesson. I can give him a detailed report on what he's doing to you. Without, of course, telling him about the supper last night, which I'm sure is against the rules." Harry couldn't believe how bitter she sounded about this. "One would think that the man would realize how stupid it is to send you here. It does little to no good. For being the wisest wizard of the age, you'd think he'd be able to see the pointlessness. But no, he doesn't. And he won't listen to reason!"

"Thia," Harry said, interrupting her rant. "I know this all."

"Sorry. I'll stop." She looked at the clock and swore softly. "I've got to get back to work, or they'll send a search party out for me. I'm late as it is. Nice chatting, Harry, and have fun reading those notebooks." Thia's face lit up with her smile. Harry smiled back, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He'd be alone once again. "I'll be by Saturday with Remus and Tonks. We'll have a bit of dueling practice, though it'll be a bit cramped in here."

"Can Ginny come?" Harry asked, eyes staring at his shoes again. "Or Ron or Hermione?"

Thia didn't answer right away, so Harry looked up. She was looking out the window. "I don't know, Harry. I don't think it'll be allowed."

"Why is she happy?" Harry asked once again, thinking that Thia would tell him, even if the twins wouldn't.

"I can't--" Thia started, but stopped. "I can't. I'm sorry." She wouldn't look him in the eye. "Until Saturday." Harry nodded and Thia left his room. He looked out his window and saw Hedwig approaching. His heart filled with hope, maybe she was returning so late because she had a letter.

She sailed into the room and landed on Harry's shoulder, without a letter. "You're rather late, girl," he said affectionately. "I was hoping you had a letter." She ruffled her wings as if to say 'I tried.' Harry walked over to the cage and before setting her on the perch, stroked her silken wings. "You missed Thia, Hedwig. We had a good time." She hooted in appreciation and then tucked her beak into her feathers. Harry took the hint; she looked exhausted. "When you wake up, I've got a package to send." She hooted softly and Harry turned from her. Saturday seemed a long way away.

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"Are you leaving or staying in your room?" Petunia said, barely sticking her head through the doorway. Harry glanced up from the WG notebook and then out the window. It was still raining, but there was no way he'd stay in here. If he was forced to stay, the room would quickly become a cell and Harry was not reliving that.

"I'm leaving."

"Then hurry up and leave," Petunia stated rudely and then closed the door. For one split second Harry considered ruining this evening on purpose. Grabbing his coat, Harry shook his head at that thought. As much as the Dursleys may deserve it, Harry was not going to go out of his way to cause havoc. It would just prove their thoughts on the freaks of the wizarding world.

At his door, Harry turned to survey his room. It was a mess, between the morning's lesson with Thia and the restlessness he had felt after her departure the room had not fared well. Hedwig's cage was empty; she had left with the package for Snape about an hour before. The window was, of course, open, rain spattering the parchment on his desk. Harry wouldn't be surprised if the desk started to mold this summer. The walls were bare, not even his normal countdown to September first adorned it. This was what Dumbledore wanted him to call home? With a bitter laugh, Harry turned his back to it and shut the door.

He found himself swinging in the play park not even five minutes later. For some strange reason this was his favorite haunt, where his legs directed him when his mind was elsewhere. He glanced over it and a flowering shrub caught his eye. That was the bush he had planted last summer, while Tonks warned him about visiting Mrs. Figg. That seemed like a different life, one that didn't have a stay at Malfoy Manor in it. The bush seemed to be doing well, which was more then Harry could say about himself.

A jolt of glee shot from Ginny into Harry. Maybe he should just take the ring off. Surely that would be better then knowing that Ginny was just fine without him. What could possibly have her that happy? Harry truly couldn't think of one thing. He knew it sounded selfish, but he wanted his friends to, at the least, not be gleeful without him, knowing how tortured he'd be here. After everything he had been through, he should be with them, and not alone here.

Harry stopped thinking, for it hurt too much. He stared at a distant tree and zoned out of his surroundings. Time passed without meaning. Rain fell without being noticed. Harry was blissfully calm, having slipped into a deep meditative state. The landscape turned into grays and blacks as the sun set behind the clouds. The temperature dropped and those watching Harry started to worry as the boy on the swing didn't move other then to pump his legs.

There was a bright flash of lightening and then a deafening roar of thunder. This sudden change in his surroundings shocked Harry out of his meditation. He dragged his feet through the puddle of muddy water and stopped the swing. The rain started to fall even harder and there was a second bolt of lightning. Only seconds later, the bright light was followed by its thunder. This was a going to be a very nasty storm. He looked at his watch and cursed. There was no way he could return to the Dursleys' yet.

Harry started swinging once again. He might as well occupy his time, even if it was only swinging. The wind picked up and started to whip the swing from side to side. He laughed, enjoying the sensation. Maybe not as fun as flying, but it was better then nothing. Rain pelted his face and lightning lit up the park for split seconds at a time. Harry took stock of his surroundings during these brief seconds of light. His guard was getting antsy. Obviously they were worried that the Boy-Who-Lived was going to catch a cold and die. Other than the four wizards and witches that he saw, no one else was around. Lights were on in the nearby homes and a warm glow lit-up the windows.

About an hour later, Mad-Eye Moody walked forward to speak with Harry. For his part, Harry ignored the man, pretending not to see him, even as Moody stood directly in front of the swing. Moody put up with Harry's immaturity for a minute or two, before growling, "Get off that swing."

At the top of the swing's arc, Harry jumped off, flying through the air. Landing on his feet, he turned back to Moody. The man looked angry. "What do you want?" Harry asked, trying not to be rude.

"Why aren't you inside?" Moody asked in his growl.

"The Dursleys have company and I wasn't invited," Harry replied with a shrug. He turned his back to the man and went to sit at the bottom of the wet slide. It didn't matter that much, every inch of his body was soaked already anyway.

"So you should be in your room," Moody replied once he caught up to Harry. The young man was surprised to see that he was taller then the old Auror.

"I'm not staying in that cell if I don't have to," Harry replied bitterly. Moody looked down at that boy, thinking about what he had just said.

"Is that so?" Moody finally said. "Well, I'm not going to let you catch your death out in this rain; so come on, we're going to the Dursleys."

"We can't," Harry informed him, not standing.

"We are." Moody waited for Harry to stand, but he didn't budge. "Get up and come with me. It's time your aunt and uncle learnt a bit of common decency."

Harry finally stood, thinking that no good would come of this. Nothing would prepare him for what did happen. As they turned into the front yard of number four Privet Drive, Harry muttered to Moody, "This isn't right." Moody grunted in answer and moved forward, opening the door without knocking. There were four Muggles that Harry had never seen before in the living room and all four were staring at the strange man that had just burst into the house. Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley were also staring, though Harry could tell Vernon was close to bursting in a fit of rage.

"I've brought your nephew home," Moody growled at the stunned Muggles. "For some strange reason he felt as if he wasn't allowed to come home." Harry watched the vein in Vernon's neck pulsate. Moody looked as much like a Muggle as the man could. He even had a hat covering his magical eye. There was nothing Vernon could say without revealing that his nephew was part of the magical world. Harry had a hard time not smiling at his uncle's predicament.

The four Muggles, two men and their wives, turned to look from Moody to Harry, and then from Harry to Vernon. The older of the men spoke up. "What's this, Vernon? I didn't know you had a nephew."

Vernon took a deep breath before replying. "He's only here for the summer, sir. He goes to boarding school the rest of the year."

"He doesn't come home for Christmas?" the man's wife asked, appalled.

"He's stayed at friends' houses every year, which has always been his choice," Aunt Petunia lied affectively. "I don't know what made you think you couldn't come home, Harry," she told him in what was supposed to be a motherly tone. "You are always welcome here." Harry grunted.

Turning to Moody, Harry spoke to the man. "Thanks for the ride, Mr. Moody," he said politely. He wouldn't ruin the Dursleys' lives like they had his. "I guess I over-reacted. Sorry to trouble you, sir." Moody gave him a penetrating look, as if trying to figure out what Harry was playing at.

"Alright, Potter," Moody finally said. "'Night."

"Potter?" the second man asked. "What's your first name again?"

"Harry," he answered. Moody turned back to face the room, his hand tightly clutched around something hidden in a pocket. Harry's guess was his wand, for his own hand had gripped his own without a thought.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Harry Potter," the first man said in a grave tone. Vernon turned a pasty white. "My name's Gerald Grunning, and this is my son, Gary. My wife, Sylvia, and my daughter-in-law Mary-Ann." Harry smiled at him uncertainly, not knowing what this was about.

"My aunt's a witch," Gary Grunning replied to Harry's unasked question. "My dad here was and is a Squib. Mary-Anne's a witch herself; my aunt introduced us years ago. We've read a lot about you in the Daily Prophet lately."

Harry had a hard time not laughing. The look of absolute horror on his uncle's face was priceless. His perfect world had crumbled. His boss was from the magical world, and the boss's son was married to a witch. Petunia dropped the teapot she had been holding, shattering the silence. A small laugh left Harry's lips before he could stop the rest.

"I was extremely happy to hear that you had been found and rescued," Mary-Ann told Harry, her head nodding at him respectfully. "That's a brave thing you did, trading your life for your friends."

"It was stupid," Moody growled.

"Sometimes what is stupid is the right thing to do and most often the bravest," Mary-Ann replied. "As the weeks passed I thought that maybe they wouldn't find you. The world would have lost a great person, had you died there." Harry nodded his head, blushing slightly. Vernon and Petunia had their mouths open. "It must have been hard for you, with Harry missing like that," Mary-Ann continued, talking to Petunia sympathetically. "I was at my wits end, and the boy isn't even my nephew."

Petunia nodded mutely, still stunned. Harry had the distinct impression that they did not know what she was talking about. Maybe he should tell the Grunnings that. No, he didn't want to do any permanent damage to their lives. When he left, Harry wanted no proof that he had lived there and if Vernon lost his job because he, Harry, had messed it up... Well, that wasn't what he wanted.

"I need to go shower and change," Harry finally said. "Thanks for taking me home, Moody," he said to the old Auror. "It was a pleasure meeting you all." With that, Harry started up the stairs, dripping as he went.

"Night, Harry," Petunia called after him, trying to appear loving.

"Why don't you come back down and join us?" Vernon asked before Harry could make it all the way up. Harry shrugged, but he knew he'd end up going down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry sat in the living room, bored out of his mind. It was almost eleven and he had the feeling that Vernon would get his promotion. Gerald Grunning was retiring and his son, Gary, was taking the company over. Because Gary and Mary-Ann had no sons and all their nephews and nieces were magical, Vernon was being considered for the vice-president position.

Finally, Gerald stood up and shook hands with Vernon. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Petunia, Dudley," Gerald told them politely. "It was an honor to meet you, Harry. My sister speaks highly of you." Harry shook the man's hand along with Gary's. Mary-Ann stepped forward and grabbed Harry's chin so that she could look into his eyes.

"It changed you, didn't it?" she said, making Harry feel uncomfortable. "Of course, any stay as a prisoner with You-Know-Who would change a person. Don't forget where you're from, don't forget what you fight for and you'll stay on the straight and narrow. It was an absolute pleasure meeting you, Harry. I hope we will see one another again."

"Yeah," Harry replied, not sure if he really meant it. After another five minutes, the Grunnings finally left and Harry was alone with the Dursleys. Vernon's face went brick red and Harry had the distinct impression that the man had never been this enraged before. "I'm going to bed," Harry said, hoping to leave before the rage broke. It was too late.

"The hell you are!" Vernon screamed. "Why the bloody hell did you come here when you were expressly told not to?"

"Do you think I had a choice?" Harry screamed back. "I wanted to stay out in that storm! I didn't want to ruin your little brown nosing party! But do you think Moody cares what I want?"

"You were told not to come back!" Petunia said, rounding on him as well.

"I didn't have a choice!" Harry repeated, knowing that they weren't listening. "I didn't want to! Hell, I didn't even want to come back this summer, so stop shouting at me! Go shout at Dumbledore!" With that, Harry hurried past them and up the stairs to his room. He threw himself on his bed and beat up his pillow. How he hated his life!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Voldemort laughed as he sensed Harry Potter in the back of his mind. 'Good to see you again, Potter.' Harry grimaced, that voice hurt. Harry's attention was refocused from the pain in his scar to the appalling view laid out before Voldemort.

Death surrounded them. The broken bodies of young children, only three of four years in age, littered the ground. What at first glance seemed like rag dolls, turned out to be the little bodies of infants. Further out, as if they had had the sense and time to flee, lay the bodies of ten to twelve year olds. And scattered through out this carnage, were the bodies of teens and adults, cradling younger children in their arms; Harry got the distinct impression that they had died trying to protect those young ones.

Yet, it wasn't only death that surrounded them. Blood curdling screams echoed off the walls. Death Eaters made sport of those still living. Harry recognized Scarface, a.k.a. Nott, immediately. The despicable man bounced the limp body of a six year old, whom Harry thought was mercifully dead. A young blond, who Harry recognized as Malfoy, had a teen age boy splayed out before him, twitching. Harry could identify the tell-tale signs of the Cruciatus.

Voldemort laughed at the scenes before him and the pain in Harry's scar exploded. 'Enjoying the Revelry?' Voldemort asked Harry mentally, causing the pain to increase tenfold. 'I want to welcome you to my old home. My first home. This orphanage was my hell for the first ten years of my life and continued to be every summer until I turned 17. I really can't understand why I haven't visited this place sooner." Voldemort laughed as the revulsion Harry felt filtered through their mental link.

Back on Privet Drive, Harry was conscious of his body retching as Voldemort's gaze went back to Nott. The Death Eater had grown bored of the little boy and was now disemboweling another; a little girl was whimpering painfully.

'You see what a gracious host I was, Potter?' Voldemort asked. 'I kept my Death Eaters from doing things like that to you. They begged, oh how they begged, but I protected you. Do you want to know why?'

'No,' Harry replied strongly. All he wanted was to get out of Voldemort's head.

'Because the next time we meet face to face, I will do that to you.' Voldemort let out a deep, evil laugh and many of the Death Eaters turned to look at the odd behavior of their master. 'You see that body?' How could Harry not? Voldemort was staring right at the mangled body of what Harry thought was a little old lady. 'She was the matron of this fine establishment when I was here and still was until I took the pleasure of killing her,' Voldemort informed him. 'It has been a long time since I stooped down and killed something as lowly as a Muggle, but for her I made an exception. She was, after all, the reason this place was hell.'

Ceasing to speak to Harry, Voldemort turned to address his Death Eaters "Cut off a finger from every body and send them t--" There were several loud 'pops' and Voldemort turned to see the bright white robed Aurors. "You're a bit late," Voldemort sneered at them. Harry hated to, but he had to agree.

"Shut up, Voldie-Moldie," Thia spat at him. Harry felt the rage inside of Voldemort explode. With a quick aim, Voldemort shot the Killing Curse at Thia, but she was too quick for him. The curse though, was the start of the battle. As it continued, Harry realized that this was no battle but a blood bath. The Aurors were outnumbered two to one as Death Eaters stormed down the stairs and others out of hiding. The Aurors, who had started out with the higher number, seemed surprised by the sudden entrance of so many Death Eaters. To Harry it seemed that they hadn't been expecting that.

The slow minutes passed and in those five minutes all but four of the Aurors died; only four remained of the almost twenty Aurors that had started the battle.

"Retreat!" Thia cried out. Sometimes running away, so that you lived to fight another battle was the smallest victory a person could win.

Voldemort laughed wickedly and fired one last Killing Curse at an Auror. Tonks' friend, Trish, fell dead. Harry watched as brief moments of memory filtered in his mind: Trish dancing with Remus, so that Tonks needn't worry. Trish standing across from him, watching Tonks and Remus say their vows. Trish dancing afterwards with the young men, having a great time.

Thia paused for a split second, looking at her fallen friend. However she activated her portkey and Harry was glad she had. Right after she disappeared, another Killing Curse exploded as it hit the wall right where Thia had just been standing.

"Bella?" Voldemort's voice rang out in the sudden silence.

"Yes, my Lord?" Bella asked, prostrated in front of him.

"I want you to oversee the cutting of a single finger from every body in here, Muggle and Auror," Voldemort commanded. "And then I want you to send them to--"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"WAKE UP, BOY!" Vernon's harsh tone broke into Harry's connection with Voldemort like nothing else had before. "WHAT IS THE MEANING OF ALL THIS SHOUTING?"

"And stop bleeding right now!" Petunia ordered. She pointed at his head and Harry cautiously reached up to his scar and felt the blood. "It'll take hours of work to get that blood off those linens!" Harry could not have cared less about his sheets, for Vernon had wrapped his meaty fingers around Harry's neck.

"Geroff!" Harry shouted as best he could. Having warned Vernon, Harry elbowed him hard in his protruding stomach. Vernon doubled over in pain, while Petunia looked on in horror. Dudley, however, was stalking at him, pulling a fist back to punch him. Harry, thankfully, had always been faster then Dudley, and like in the years before Hogwarts, he skillfully ducked the punch. "Get out of my room, all of you!"

"This is my house," Vernon managed to get out; Harry saw the anger and hatred burn in his eyes. "I can come and go as I please!" While Vernon had been speaking, Dudley had snuck to the other side of the bed, and wrapped an arm around Harry's throat. Harry struggled off his bed, dragging his cousin with him. Surging forward, with strength he didn't know he had, he was off the bed with Dudley falling off behind him. The arm fell from Harry's neck, and he turned to see that his cousin was unconscious. He had hit his head on the side board of the bed. Petunia screamed and ran to her unconscious son.

"NOW SEE HERE! YOU WILL NOT--" but whatever Harry wasn't supposed to do, he never found out. A large pitch black owl flew in through the open window and deposited a large package on Harry's bed. "OWLS! USING MY HOUSE AS A ROOST!" Harry stared at the package, the owl wasn't one he knew, and he wasn't keen to open it. "WELL, OPEN IT!" Harry's gaze traveled from the package to his angry uncle and then back again.

Why not? I might as well. He tore the black paper and saw an even blacker box underneath. Lifting off the cover, Harry threw up, yet again. Petunia screamed bloody murder and then fainted. And Vernon stared at the contents, dumbfounded.

He had sent Harry the fingers.

"What sick, disgusting, immature joke is this?" Vernon finally got out after a few failed attempts. Harry though, was sick of the Dursleys presence. With barely a thought, Petunia and Dudley floated safely through the air, landing softly outside the room. Vernon took one look at his wife's sister's son (the boy was no nephew of his) and then fled the room. Demons haunted that boy's eyes and Vernon didn't want to cross him in such a state.

Harry sank back onto his bed, his brain not really functioning. It had horrified Harry last fall when He had sent Dumbledore the pinkies of the Joneses. This time, He had sent Harry a finger from every child at that orphanage, every worker there, and every Auror who had died. Harry retched yet again, thinking of the terror in every Muggle who had died that night. That little girl, barely three, hadn't stood a chance. One by one, Harry saw each of the faces he'd seen, their dead eyes accusing him.

Harry was sick of seeing the dead! He was sick of being abandoned by the living! He was sick of fighting a war he hadn't asked for! He was... He was through. The realization slowly sunk in. He didn't want to live any longer. Tonight's Revelry would add fuel to the bonfire of nightmares that already destroyed Harry's slim grip on sanity. Harry took out his wand and placed it to his temple. One simple Avada Kedavra would end the pain in his life. He'd be able to see Sirius and his mum and his dad yet again.

"Avad--" he stopped mid-curse, watching Hedwig fly in from her night's hunt. He needed to write two people notes first. Fifteen minutes later, Harry read through the first one.

Dumbledore--

Well, I'm writing to let you know that your gamble failed. By sending me to the Dursleys' (I can't even call them relatives!), you've left me with my worst enemy: MYSELF! Thia tried to warn you. I tried to warn you. Everyone tried to warn you, but in your infinite knowledge you knew best and you sent me to my death.

I'm through being your pawn. Use your other ones as you wish, just don't get Ron, Hermione, and Ginny killed in some stupid suicide mission. I'll find a way to come back from the dead and I'll hunt you down myself. God, you make me sick. You're so emotionless. Is that 'cause you've gotten so many people killed in your war that it doesn't affect you any more? Merlin, the guilt kills me, but you must have hundreds upon hundreds of lives on your hands. How do you sleep at night?

Good luck with YOUR war.

--Harry Potter

P.S. I was sent this by a mutual friend, but it was a mistake. You should have been the one to receive it. Sorry that I opened it. H.P.

Harry attached that to the re-wrapped package and read through the second note. This one had been much harder to write.

Dearest Gin~

All I can think to write is: I'm sorry. I know you don't need this in your life right now, well, I actually don't know that anymore. You've seemed so... giddy... without me, that I'm just confused. And no one will tell me why...

All I do know is that I need rest, sweet, blissful rest. This life has gotten too hard to handle. The only way to get the peace I need is through death. I'm sorry. I wish you were here. Life seems easier when you're with me. Too late now. I'm too far gone to rescue... I can't be pulled back this time, Gin.

Say goodbye to Ron and Hermione. I love them more then I can tell them.

Please understand.

~Love,
Harry

Harry put the second letter in an envelope and sealed it. Tying both packages to Hedwig's leg, he gave her one last petting. "Fly to Ginny first," Harry told her, giving her an owl treat, and holding the tears at bay. "Then take Dumbledore's package to the old... man." He petted her a few times and then ruffled a few feathers. She stared at him reproachfully, but Harry just smiled weakly. "Thanks, girl, for everything." She hooted softly and flew off, not understanding her master's thanks or mood.

His hand bumped over the glass on his desk. The flowers and water spilt onto his desk. How sad was it that the nicest thing that anyone did for him this week was giving him some weeds? How sad was it that Harry had never met that little girl before? For all Harry knew, that little girl would be dead during next week's Revelry. Returning to his grisly task, Harry placed the tip of his wand to his temple once more.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The Boy Who Lived fell to the ground, having performed the most unforgivable of curses upon himself.