My So-Called-Immortal

My So Called Immortal

By Kiri Oni

Chapter 1: Why Can't I Go Back?

Harry Potter looked out the window of his bedroom, not really seeing the yard of Number 4 Privet Drive. He could hear the laughter of the children playing in the street, the cars bustling down the road as people returned home from work, a dog next door barking absent mindedly as his owner got home. But all this meant nothing to Harry. It had never meant anything to Harry. But then again, was there really anything that did matter now?

The broken radio in his room announced the next song it would be playing. He recognized the piano solo at the beginning. The words began to flood his mind.

I'm so tired of being here. Suppressed by all my childish fears. And if you have to leave, I wish that you would just leave cause your presence still lingers here and it won't leave me alone.

Harry had always felt like Sirius was still there somewhere, but Harry knew it wasn't true. Why couldn't he just move on?

These wounds won't seem to heal.

Harry looked down at his left wrist. Two scars and a fresh third were cut into his wrist.

This pain is just too real.

His heart began to twinge as he stood there looking at his wrist. Tears began to fill his bright greens eyes. His right hand clenched a nearby spell book.

There's just too much that time cannot erase.

"Shut up!" Harry shouted at the radio, throwing the book at it. He stopped to regain himself. He was being stupid. He got mad at a song. He was acting like a six-year-old child rather then a sixteen-year-old boy.

"Hey, Freak-O!" Harry's cousin yelled up the stairs. "Dinner's ready!"

Harry didn't feel much like eating; but then again he hadn't eaten in two days. He should have a little food.

He reached the dining room as the Dursley's, now his only living relatives, were half way through eating. Harry sat down quietly, avoiding any eyes or sneers from the Dursleys. He reached for the mashed potatoes when Dudley, his thick, overweight cousin, decided to be smart with Harry.

"Who's Sirius?" he asked with an air of one asking a simple conversational question.

Harry stopped in mid scoop. Dudley knew about Sirius? Ok, relax, he told himself firmly. He probably heard you talking about Sirius to Uncle Vernon. Umm, that is 'threatening' Uncle Vernon with Sirius. Guilt began to build up in him for taking advantage of Sirius' Azkaban sentence like that. He felt guilty for a lot of things with Sirius, but most importantly was his...

Will you stop thinking about that! He shouted to himself. Isn't it bad enough that even the muggle radio makes you think about it without you brining it on yourself 5 minutes later? But, Harry then pondered on what Dudley said. Something still felt like Dudley had found his information in another way. Harry knew that nothing good was going to come out of this conversation. He didn't answer Dudley, but placed his fork in his left hand and began to fidget a bit. He was a little afraid Dudley had noticed the change. Harry only placed anything in his left hand if his right hand was broken or if he was very nervous.

Dudley's face grew into a wide smirk. Clearly this was something that Harry didn't want to talk about. He was making this too easy for Dudley.

Dudley continued with his train of thought. "I heard you last night. Muttering and screaming in your sleep, again."

Harry's aunt and uncle looked up from their meal.

"What?" Harry demanded. "Can I not have one damn moment to myself in this hell hole?"

"You will not" his uncle started.

"Shut up!" Harry shouted.

Dudley smirk grew even wider. He had clearly touched a nerve and torturing Harry was the best form of entertainment over the summer.

" 'Sirius! Oh God, no, Sirius!' God, what a baby. You actually still talk and scream in your sleep."

Harry's temper mounted.

"I'm guessing this Sirius guy is another one you brilliantly got killed."

"SHUT UP YOU FAT ASS MORON! YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING, NOT A DAMN THING, ABOUT THAT DAY! NOW KEEP YOUR FAT NOSE OUT OF OTHER PEOPLE'S BUSSINESS!" Harry felt like something was coursing through his body, controlling him, making him crave to curse his cousin into a million bloody pieces.

"I'VE HAD IT WITH ALL OF YOU! YOU'VE TREATED ME LIKE SHIT MY WHOLE DAMN LIFE! WELL THAT STOPS NOW!"

"And what makes you think we're scared of you?" Dudley challenged.

Harry smiled evilly. He stood up from the table. He rose slowly as if he had all the time in the world to deal with Dudley. "Well, dear cousin," he said in a calm voice unlike his own, "you see, I have magical powers and you don't. You get my drift?"

Dudley stood as well. He rose up fast trying to intimidate Harry. "You can't do magic outside of your school, moron."

Harry didn't respond to Dudley. Harry subconsciously reached for his wand. He heard the words escape his mouth before he even knew he was going to say them. "Engorgio!"

Dudley's body began to swell at an extreme rate. Harry walked into the living next to the dining room. He smirked as he watched his cousin grow. Suddenly, he felt like he'd been slapped in the face. He suddenly realized his cousin was growing. How, when, did that happen? He asked. He looked down to find his wand gripped tightly in his hand. Oh shit, he thought. Thinking it was the only way to escape an early death at the moment, Harry grabbed his navy blue jacket with yellow stripes down each arm and ran from Privet Drive as fast as he could.

Chapter 2: Burning Questions

Harry soon reached the nearby playground, his jet-black hair plastered to his head with sweat. What the hell is going on? He inquired to himself as he slipped his wand inside his jacket. I haven't done anything like that in a few years, but I actually remember doing those. I'm the only wizard for miles. I'm the only one who could've done anything like that. Unless...no, he's not stupid enough to come after me in broad daylight. Thinking this much and hard was giving him a headache. Ok, Harry, just breath, he told himself. You just need to relax, empty your mind, all that good stuff.

Harry sat on the foot of the slide to catch his breath. He looked at the park. This place was a very familiar thinking spot for Harry. He came to this spot a lot last year to think about why he was being left in the dark, why no one was writing to him, why his own godfather was...

Jesus! He shouted in his head. What is this? 'Let's see how much we can think of Sirius' Day? He was getting frustrated with himself again. He took another deep breath. He then closed his eyes. "Clear your mind," he repeated to himself out loud. "Let go of your emotions."

He tried to empty out his emotions as he was taught in last year, he might as well as jammed a screwdriver into the side of his head. Memories of, not just Sirius' death, every death he had ever witnessed his life had been plaguing his dreams at night. He could hear is mother screaming out his name, followed quickly by seeing Cedric's dead body sprawled on the ground, which was then replaced by the disappearance of Sirius behind the long black vial.

Harry began to see that as an ironic metaphor. He seemed to have a lot of out of body experiences. He would just kind of sit on the sidelines as the world past him by. He never even egged Dudley's gang into fighting him.

Had Voldemort start to posses him again? That was the last thing he needed. That bastard was the reason Harry was with the Dursleys. He was the reason Harry had become a marked man. He was the reason Harry was now an orphan.

As Harry thought this, screams began to fill his mind. This memory was all too familiar.

A woman furiously tried to get her son out, but she didn't want to abandon her husband. Suddenly, an incantation rang up the stairs.

"JAMES!" she shouted but to no avail.

Harry's eyes snapped open and he spun around. He knew he wasn't thinking this on his own accord.

About thirteen dememtors swarmed around Harry. He fell off the slide. Scrambling backwards, Harry groped for his wand inside his jacket.

"Expecto Patronum!"

A dazzling silver light engulfed the park. Harry heard a shrill bird cry over the screams of his dying mother. Vaguely, he could make out a flying Patronus. The dementors glided away from the Patronus.

Harry struggled to get to his feet as the Patronus flew away. After he got to his feet, he ran after the flying Patronus.

He soon reached a small clearing where he saw the Patronus at last, perched on a rock in the middle of the clearing. It was an elegant silver phoenix.

"Well, well," a voice from behind Harry said, "looks like my target arrived."