Harry Potter and The Trials of Time

Mourning

It was a cool summer night in Privet Drive, but the hostile atmosphere gave the wind an extra nip, to make the only room with a broken window in number 4 extra cold. Inside, a young wizard was twisting and turning in his sleep. He mumbled against the pillow, but anybody nearby would make out a faintly strange pronunciation of the word "serious". Harry rolled over one time too many and banged his head against the corner of his bedside locker.

"Huh?" Harry grunted, before his body reacted to the knock and his hands shot to his forehead. He sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth.

'I deserve that,' Harry thought. He was dreaming again, and that never proved helpful, as his last year in Hogwarts had proven. He was thinking about how he had misinterpreted the dreams every time, and how he was so foolish not to tell somebody in the Order of the Phoenix. He was coming down hard on himself, but at least he wouldn't have to dream anymore. He was almost finished his Occlumency lessons, as Snape was ordered to tutor him over the summer.

'It'll never end though,' Harry thought bitterly, as he poured over another topic that had taken root in his mind recently. As long as Voldemort was alive, Harry would never know peace, he would never know a world without pain or suffering. Then to top it all off, he was the only one that could end Voldemort, forever. He was so depressed; the world seemed to be leaning on him. Sometimes he thought about giving in, and just letting go. Harry never really thought about life and death, but he'd really rather to be anywhere but here living this life right now. He thought about meeting his parents again. His family. He knew that there was a heaven, even if he wasn't a religious person. He knew the fundamentals of the universe at any cost.

To be Harry Potter is to be alone. This was the most troubling thought Harry had. It seemed that anybody he ever loved and let in to his life were hurt. His parents. His godfather. His friends. Harry didn't like living this life. It gave him nothing but pain. While he was churning all of this in his mind a thought ran past the others.

Voldemort was one who hurt the ones he loved. He was the one giving him pain. 'Well then he should feel what I feel.'

Harry got up and stood opposite the wall. He was practicing every night. As well as learning Occlumency he was learning Legilimency. He was not divulging this to anybody. He was keeping this a secret in his arsenal against Voldemort.

Harry squared his shoulders and pressed his hands to the wall. The book he had bought through an owl-order service said that beginners needed a medium for the emotion to flow from. Most wizards used a wand but Harry couldn't as he was underage. This was a very old type of magic and couldn't be detected, but any use of wands could. Harry thought about all the things that Voldemort took from him.

His family. His godfather. His friends. His life. 'It was all because of Voldemort.' Harry let the rage build up inside of him until his cheeks were salty with tears, and soon he was beyond tears. He opened his eyes and saw green ripples pulsating from his hands. Harry knew that this had never happened before but kept on pushing.

He closed his eyes for what felt like a minute and opened them to see that the edges of the wall were green and that the entire room was blurred. Harry saw that the colours softly turned from green to yellow to orange to-. Harry let go of the wall immediately.

The colours remained but Harry saw that they were fading slowly. There in the centre where Harry's hands were was a perfect circle. It was a deep blood red. The edges had the shimmering quality Harry identified to the Crucio curse. Harry did want Voldemort to feel pain, but he wasn't sure what that meant. Harry stood there waiting for the wall to return to normal. He waited for a long time. Suddenly, birds began to sing sweetly outside Harry's window.

He looked outside and saw the sun's rays bouncing off the sky, giving the sky a deep red colour. Harry whipped his head back towards the wall and saw that the wall was perfectly normal. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Harry walked over to his bed and felt considerably light-headed and tired. However he also noticed that he was grinning and the tightness in his chest was gone. Harry had trouble breathing recently. Something told him that he wouldn't have that problem anymore.

***

Harry woke up suddenly as he heard many heavy feet rush up the stairs and into the room opposite his. He knew that these were Dudley's gang. They began to come to his house when Dudley was told he couldn't go out anymore. It somehow came to his parents' attention that Dudley was a juvenile delinquent. He was discovered befouling Mrs. Figg's garden. Of course the Dursley's didn't care and Dudley probably did it because she was 'abnormal'. It was when reports came in that Dudley was beating up kids half his size and breaking windows in houses belonging to the elderly that the community had to act.

They all sent letters and phoned the Dursley's on one designated day which meant that number 4 Privet drive was in complete havoc. It seemed they were lobbied and had to keep their son inside. Dudley didn't get told off or punished severely. There was no shortage of excuses made for Dudley in any case.

"Ah these kids need to be toughened up more!" Uncle Vernon always said when the subject arose. Aunt Petunia would say, "The ungrateful wretches; after all we've given this community and this is how they show thanks, by whining about nothing." Harry would always tune out. He would laugh softly in his head, thinking about how easily the Dursley's could point out other people's faults and shortcomings and yet fail to see the truth of their son.

Harry bent up straight and looked at his watch as it laid face up on the bedside locker. As it was nearly mid-day he decided he would call down to Mrs. Figg's for a chat. He knew he'd have to tell somebody in the Order about what he had done. This was too much for him to handle on his own.

Harry rose out of his bed and stretched out fully, nearly touching the ceiling. He was about five foot nine now, though still nowhere near as tall as Ron. His best friend had sent him pictures of his holidays. The twins managed to break the wizarding market and were doing so well that they treated the family to a holiday. Ron went on in his letters about how great it is to have Percy back in the family. Harry supposed that you never miss something until you've gone without it for a while. Apparently all wounds were healed in time, and Molly and Arthur were too pleased to have their son back to care about the past.

Harry was truly happy for Ron. Although, he couldn't help feel a little good-natured envy for him either. Here he was, bottled up in Privet Drive, while Ron was enjoying the sun and recruiting members for the Order in Albania. Then there was Hermione, she was staying at home with her parents all summer. She promised that she would make contact soon, but she couldn't for a while as Dumbledore had asked for less owl movement in her area.

Harry hoped that she would answer soon because he didn't like sending Hedwig off to Albania all the time now that she could get intercepted. Who knows how many death eaters she'd pass. If Harry wanted to talk he'd prefer to talk to somebody on a daily basis rather than a weekly one. Harry dressed into casual clothes one size too big for him as always and made his way downstairs to make himself a makeshift breakfast. The Dursley's avoided him all day. Snape scared the life out of them.

Two slices of toast and a pint of milk later, Harry threw on a jacket and made his way to Mrs. Figg's. He passed the perfectly manicured lawns. All of them the deep shade of green healthy grass has. A reservoir was built by the council during the year. Another product of the communities' complaints. The morning dew reflected light making the grass shimmer. Harry looked back up to Dudley's window.

Anybody on the street could here the dance music blaring out the window. Harry couldn't understand it. It wasn't music, it was just the same techno synthesised beat over and over again. He could see that somebody was swinging at Dudley's punching bag. He turned around and made his way to Mrs. Figg's at a slow pace.

Harry pushed the gate open and closed it behind himself. Knowing that Mrs. Figg would scold him if he knocked, as she always did, Harry pushed open the door while turning the door handle.

"What do you mean Albus? Couldn't it have been a bloody coincidence? There's always magic coming from Potter's room. Snape said he has to practice every night." Harry heard Mrs. Figg speaking to somebody.

"You don't understand Arabella, the very same moment I knew of it, was the very same moment that I learnt of the attack on Voldemort. I never have believed in coincidence and never shall. You know what happened don't you?" Harry heard the voice of his headmaster in the next room.

"Yes, Snape told me. So what do you want me to do? I won't be of much help; you know that anyway. Did he do something wrong?" Arabella asked.

"On the contrary, I think he did the whole ministry a favour. He proved that Voldemort isn't invincible. That'll do wonders for the propaganda war in any case. Just keep an eye on him for me. That's all you can do."

"I'll keep two on him. Take care Albus," Mrs. Figg said before Harry heard a fire being extinguished manually. Harry turned around and closed the door behind him.

"What did I do?" Harry wondered. He turned around and opened the door whilst knocking lightly on the door.

"Harry! Stop knocking, for the love of God, how many times do I have to tell you," Mrs. Figg shrieked while she shooed cats off of her sofa.

"Sorry Mrs. Figg. Force of-"

"Stop calling me 'Mrs. Figg'. It's Arabella dear. Catch up boy."

Harry smiled and glanced around the room. Harry asked Arabella why her house smelled of cabbages. She explained in an educated manner that that is the way that all muggle homes smell. Upon a brief discussion with Harry, Mrs. Figg quickly switched the smell-spell to roses. The furnishings stayed the same; however it did seem brighter recently.

"You seem different dear, is anything the matter?" Arabella asked as she creased her forehead.

Harry thought how well Mrs. Figg could hide secrets. 'It's probably from years in Dumbledore's service,' Harry reasoned.

"Actually Mrs. Figg, I did something last night that I think I should inform the Order about." Harry waited for Mrs. Figg to say something but she was silent, with a curious look on her face.

"Well, I heard you talking to Professor Dumbledore just then so I think you know what I'm going to say. What did Snape tell you?" Harry asked calmly hoping she wouldn't be mad.

"Well, you never miss a thing, do you?" she said sternly. Then she changed faces. "It seems that your stunt last night, whatever it was, caused such an amount of pain to Voldemort that he lost consciousness. I didn't think they were related events, but Dumbledore does. Frankly I'm wondering what you did. Snape reported back here first. I have an apparition safe-point upstairs. He told me that Voldemort was initiating a death-eater and then suddenly cried out in pain. His nose and ears began to bleed and then all of a sudden he dropped down to the floor."

Harry was turning this all over in his mind. He tried to look grave, as solemn as this matter was, but he couldn't help letting a grin escape him. He had done it; he set out to deliver pain back to the donor.

"Oh stop trying to hide it; I was shocked at first to know he could feel pain. Even more shocked to know he was knocked out from it. But besides that you have to think this shows us the end is near. The real end. You'd be stupid not to smile at that." Mrs. Figg was smiling seriously at him now and Harry smiled too, happy that he could be happy.

"So what do I do now? I mean, if the magic was detected then the ministry must know. I thought it was a different type of magic, I didn't know it could be traced."

"The ministry don't know. They don't know who's responsible either. They only know what Dumbledore is telling them. I'm not sure on whether or not it's detectable but Albus said that Fudge doesn't know nor does he need to. God knows how Albus found out anyway, like you, he never misses a trick. Now, I don't mean to be rude but I must go so you'll have to go back to your house or stay inside the safe-zone. Alright?"

Harry learnt of the safe-zone that was erected around Little Whinging. It was around 1 mile radius with number 4 Privet Drive as the origin. It was put up by everybody in the Order and ensured that any magical person with intent to harm Harry could not enter the safe-zone. Harry didn't like the way that everybody kept reminding him to stay inside it. Although at the same time he knew it was necessary.

Harry thought of the way he forever disregarded the rules. This made him think of what he saw in Snapes' pensieve last year. He still couldn't get over it. Why was his dad so ignorant back then? And what changed between him and his mother in 2 years that led to them marrying and having him? He was really confused about this lately. All the time people would refer to his father Harry pulled out this marvellous image of a virtuous man. Really he was a bully and somebody who Harry wouldn't like to meet. At least that was what he was like when he was Harry's age. He'd have to ask Lupin later.

Remus was the only person Harry had left that in any way representing a father figure in Harry's life. So Harry made sure that he was in contact with him now and again. He'd slip in the odd question about his dad once in a while. He hadn't spoken to him in a while because it was nearing the full moon and Lupin was on a mission shortly before that. Harry would wait until Remus owled him before he'd ask.

Harry reached number four and opened the door slowly. After realising that it was clear he made his way up to his room. He was forever a target for Dudley's' pranks. If only they saw some real pranks Harry thought, thinking of the Weasley twins. He then thought of Hogwarts, and glanced over at his calendar. 7 weeks to go before he was back home. He also couldn't wait until Ron invited him to the Burrow. At least that was the code word for number 12, Grimmauld Place. Harry couldn't wait to be among the Order, knowing what was happening. He would have to wait for now.

Harry took a shower careful to choose what toiletries he used as Dudley seemed to be excelling in chemistry for some reason. Harry supposed that it was a young female teacher that had caught Dudley's attention. Harry would like a new 'chemistry' teacher any day. After he was dry Harry changed into some light clothes and began working in the garden. He didn't need to, but he found it got his mind off of things.

When he was taking a break Harry laid himself on the back lawn and drifted silently off to sleep.

***

The laughter of many idiots awoke Harry. Knowing what was coming next; Harry decided to pretend he was asleep. He cautiously opened one of his eyes in the direction of the laughter. There, clear as day was one of Dudley's friends. Harry recognised him as the smallest one who Dudley always laughed with. He probably thought himself a real joker. He was holding a water balloon full of one of Dudley's concoctions and approaching Harry. He looked back once every step which made his progress very slow. Harry had an idea. He prepared himself to get up quickly and reached out to pick up an old knife he borrowed to pick weeds.

When the moron turned around to laugh with his friends for the last time, Harry sprung to his feet silently and glided towards his target. When he turned to face where Harry was, he was surprised to see that Harry was there in front of him, bringing a knife towards the balloon in his hands.

Harry was out of there before anybody had reacted to it all. He had slashed the balloon so it sprayed what looked like brown water all over Harry's failed attacker. Then, he jumped out and over the fence disappearing as soon as he appeared. There, he hid from all of them. All of 'Big-D's' friends. They searched and couldn't find him so finally they went inside and from there home. Harry wasn't bored. In fact, he had landed in the back yard of a kind young couple. He didn't know what to say at first so he told the truth. A gang of bullies were after him. They understood immediately. They invited him to join them for lunch and he felt he had to oblige, as breakfast had somehow became 3 hours earlier. Harry told them he went to a boarding school in Scotland, and omitted all the risqué information. He had a strange feeling with these people. He put it down to the fact that these were the only muggles in all of Little Whinging that made polite conversation with him. They had moved here last spring and had just finished moving in. They didn't know many people in this area, but the ones they have met briefly were described by Neil, the husband, as 'socially challenged' and by Sarah, Neil's wife, as 'utter snobs.'

Harry liked them. They seemed to complement each other nicely, the way one would finish the other's sentence. Or the way they moved in perfect harmony to each other. Harry was almost jealous. He knew now why he had a feeling about this couple. The love between them was palpable. He so wanted that. He so needed that. He needed somebody to love. To hold. He needed somebody to love and hold him. But he remembered that there was a conversation going on and quickly pulled out of his reverie.

"Sorry? I didn't get that." Harry said quickly as they both looked inquisitively at him.

"We were just saying, we need to do something with the garden. It's fairly bare, do you know if there's somebody nearby that does landscaping and that?" Sarah asked kindly.

"Umm, I don't think so, I think there was one place in East Surrey but I think that's turned into a Gardening centre where you do your own designing."

"Oh, that's fine, Neil has loads of time on his hands. Unlike some of us."

"Don't mind her Harry. She's just jealous. Lawyers often are," Neil said glancing at his wife.

"Lawyers don't work their own hours like writers," Sarah quipped, and she held Neil's gaze.

"Well, if you need a hand, you know I'm just next door." Harry would love a chance to get away from Dudley's gang. "It'd give me something to do. And I really think a day's manual labour would be worth another one of your meals," Harry said, smiling at them both.

"I think we'll take you up on that Harry; now, if you don't mind, could you help me put away these plates?"

Harry helped the Nigellus' clean up and then bade them farewell. Happy to know he was welcome in one home on this street, Harry came in the door to number 4 smiling happily.