Harry Potter and the Coming of Fate

Confrontation and Understanding: Part I

"BOY!" the grotesquely obese man shouted from the bottom of the stairs.

Harry had only just made it to the top landing with his trunk in hand thumping along behind him, and Hedwig in her cage in his other hand when he heard the bellow from his uncle. Harry desperately wanted to lash out and attack the man screaming for him from downstairs. However, in light of recent events, Harry had resolved to damn up the overwhelming emotions that threatened to tear him apart from the inside out and focus- on what, he only had a slight idea, but the idea itself was enough to give him hope.

Hope was something that this 15 year old boy desperately needed right now. What he did not need was a fat, obtuse and prejudiced man yelling at him only an hour after he had returned from school. It did not matter that his mind was still fluctuating between the memories of events at Hogwarts over the past term, and the death of his Godfather at the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic. No, that did not matter where he was right now. At the moment he was physically in the home of his blood relations, who had only ever been family in title; but that was more than he could allow himself for them to even possess now. As far as Harry was concerned; the last of his family had just died, save for his best friends Ron and Hermione who he considered to be his last link.

The guilt he felt for the death of his Godfather Sirius Black he would deal with later, right now he had to deal with the current problem plaguing him- the one he could feel anger, resentment and embarrassment coming off in waves.

So Harry placed his trunk at the top of the stairs and set Hedwig in her cage on top of it, collected himself as best he could and calmly descended the stairs one at a time preparing for what had been a long time coming.

He would no longer tolerate his blood relations constant berating that he was worthless, an 'ungrateful whelp' as he was so often referred. It did not matter to them that from the moment he had been old enough to do what Petunia and Vernon ordered him to do he had done it, he was still the freak in their eyes that deserved the constant punishment, the unending abuse- mental and physical, and thank whatever deity was watching over him that he was a quick healer. Harry never mattered to them, but now was the time for them to realize everything that had ever happened to him as a result of their treatment. He would make them experience every moment of his suffering under their hands and more that they were indirectly responsible for.

This was the first moment of his retribution, and he couldn't keep the smirk off his face thinking of paying them back nor could he shake the sinking feeling that these people had caused him to lower himself to doing this to them.

"BOY!" and then Vernon stopped, his face was bright red, and anyone watching him could clearly see the veins straining to burst through the skin of his neck and forehead.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GRINNING AT? I WILL NOT STAND FOR THE EMBARASSMENT YOU JUST PUT ME THROUGH! HOW DARE YOU GET THOSE... THOSE FREAKS TO THREATEN ME! I SHOULD HAVE NEVER SHOWED UP TO PICK YOU UP, SHOULD HAVE LEFT YOU THERE AT THE STATION, MAYBE THEN WE'D BE RID OF YOU AND YOU COULD GO LIVE WITH THAT CRIMINAL YOU CALL YOUR GODFATHER!" Vernon's ranting came out so quickly that he didn't recognize Harry's consternation had changed from slight amusement from the sight of Vernon's indignation, to all out hate at the mention of Sirius.

Petunia, who had been standing next to her husband however, caught the sudden change in Harry and a chill ran up her spine when her eyes locked onto his. She couldn't tell where the feeling had come from, but she had no doubt that it had something to do with her 'nephew'. Her mind kept turning to her sister and all the spiteful feelings she had ever harbored for her. 'Perfect Lily and that perfect looking James, her parents had been so proud, so proud that Petunia was always overlooked, even her meager achievements warranted no more than a pat on the back and a 'well done dear', whereas Lily could do no wrong- which she never did, and was rewarded greatly with the love and adoration of her parents'. That was all that she ever wanted from her parents, and since she never received it, and because in Petunia's mind Lily and James were responsible for her parents' death, this boy would pay, he would pay for everything. But she wasn't able to shake that cold sensation that hand gripped her spine and was unwilling to let go from when she looked at the boy. The boy did not have his, his stick so he could not be doing anything unnatural- it had to be fear of her husband, yes that was it, she reasoned. It had to be that she was afraid for her husband, but why she couldn't say.

On the opposite side of Vernon, was Dudley. Who had by the looks of him completely transformed on his diet and exercise plan, the nutritionists must have beaten it into him somehow, or maybe the threat of an early heart-attack had finally changed him. Harry had never heard a thanks or any kind word from these people for what he had done for Dudley last summer so that could or could not have had something to do with his changed physical appearance. He was no longer portly, he was like a fireplug, five foot ten and from the looks of him built pretty solid from all of the pugilist training he had undergone. He too could feel the chill running up and down his spine, causing him to shudder and relive his experience with the Dementors the previous summer.

Dudley did not really think that his cousin was a freak, just odd, and because of what he could do he was more than a little jealous, but his parents could never learn of his jealousy. So he never had the chance to really speak to Harry, even if it was just to say thanks for saving his life, or soul, or whatever his mum had dad said those things could do to him. Thus, being the only thing he could do was to act the way he always acted and do what was exactly expected of him, taunt and beat his cousin.

Harry could feel all of these emotions coming off Vernon, Petunia and Dudley. It wasn't exactly Legilimency, it was something else. He could literally feel each and ever emotion like they were tangible; Vernon's hate, Petunia's jealousy and resentment, and oddly enough to him, Dudley's jealousy mixed with sorrow for what he had always been like to him, and awe for his cousin. Maybe, he did have someone here that he could...

No, he may apologize for 11 years and 5 summers of hate and disgust but that does not excuse him. I may even accept his apology but that does not change anything.

Vernon, just stood there getting redder by the second, ignoring the cold, ignoring everyone and everything but the boy

"Dudley," Harry said, taking his off of Vernon.

"Y- Yeah," he stuttered, not really knowing what to expect.

"You have my sympathy," he said flatly. Not betraying himself to any kind of emotional outburst that would result in a ministry owl swooping in and informing him that he had broken the restriction for underage use of magic... whatever number paragraph, whatever subsection, and whoever was in charge of the department. Now was not the time to risk it.

Dudley's eyes flashed for a moment, and then he saw a vision inside his head. Snape, had never shown Harry much of anything during their 'few' lessons; but Harry, unwilling to share any of his new found information from the Hogwarts library did not let anyone know that he could fake memories now, only small ones with his limited learning, but it was enough for what he needed now.

Harry had shown Dudley that he couldn't forgive him for everything, but he was willing to try, and that Dudley should not show his change of heart to his uncle, lest he be the one of the receiving end of the abuse, even if he did look like he would be able to hold his own for a while.

"You? Your sympathy? Sod off you FREAK!"

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?" Vernon bellowed again.

That was the final outburst. Harry just couldn't take the yelling anymore.

"Legilimens," Harry said softly, but with meaning and force behind it while holding Sirius' wand.

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

Three hours had passed since Harry had shown his... he really didn't know what to call them anymore. He wasn't able to say blood relations inside his head any longer; because that wasn't the kind of person he was or aspired to be. He didn't regret what he had shown them. He hadn't felt that he held any power of them, and for that he was grateful. Losing control and turning out to be the next Tom Riddle was something no one fathomed of him.

While contemplating, what he needed to accomplish over the summer, the Dursley's finally began to stir.

Vernon was the first. He had tried to get up, but fell backwards on his fat arse and leaned against the couch pushing it back without meaning to with his bulk. Harry could see that Vernon was avoiding looking around for fear that he would see Harry; he could also see that Vernon still did not understand everything that he had been forced to see. The only sign of change from Vernon's bright red face prior to what Harry had done was that he was now completely pale, and utterly still.

Petunia had been the second to rouse, and the moment her eyes opened and saw Harry sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch, she began sobbing wildly and muttering under her breath. Vernon's hand reached out to her shoulder and she instantly recoiled against it, but then though better of it and scooted herself over next to Vernon on the floor. Clinging to him like the world depended on it, she wailed into his shoulder. All that Vernon could do at that point was to slide his arm around his wife's shoulders and try to comfort her. How, he hadn't the slightest clue, but he'd try none the less.

Dudley who still had not woken up since he passed out was being lightly shaken by Harry. Worried that he Dudley might not have handled the memories of the Dementors too well, Harry started to second guess himself. But thankfully, Dudley stirred, sat up and looked shocked to see Harry standing over him with absolutely no emotion showing on his face. In Dudley's head he kept going over everything he had been shown, every death, every vision at night with the countless murders of not just men and women trying to defend themselves... but of helpless children and parents and people he didn't know and didn't know what they had deserved to be tortured for and then killed. Or worse from Dudley's stand, was the memory that stood out the worst from them all that Harry had shown him of a woman being murdered with a green light, while the man in the same room watched as the people in dark cloaks and white masked faces started to tear apart the body in front of him limb from limb while laughing like it was some game. This was the one memory that had sent Dudley over the edge causing him to turn on his side and vomit.

Harry had tried to sympathize with these people. He was truly trying, but with everything that had ever happened in his life right up this point... and the people sitting on the floor in front of him that were responsible for his torment over a decade, he was finding it more than difficult. They were all so still now, Harry didn't know how they were going to react and Dudley's reaction Harry was surprised to see was not expressed by his parents; they just sat there.

Pale faced, and utterly still, Vernon's eyes didn't move as he asked, "Was that... was that your whole life?"

"No, the few happy memories I have, I keep to myself, thanks."

Vernon finally turned, a little color coming back to his flabby cheeks, and tried to look at Harry but failed. Their eyes met for a second before his head dropped.

"I want you all to listen to what I have to say. Are you well enough to do that?" Harry asked.

Vernon look up, but not at him, Dudley, who was wiping the bile from his chin stared at Harry's shoes- which were actually Dudley's hand me downs; sending another wave of guilt over Dudley. Petunia who had finally stopped wailing, but didn't cease to cry tried to look Harry in the eye as well, but only managed for a second longer than Vernon before she looked at the floor with her husband and son.

Taking this as a sign of acquiescence, Harry started, "I'm sorry for what I just did, but in a few days I hope you'll understand why. There are certain things that I am going to have to do this summer, and I would appreciate it if you would let me be while I'm working. I will not get in the way of your day to day lives, and you may not even see me after tomorrow, I may leave or I may not, but you've all seen the reason for why I'm here now, right?"

They all mumbled a yes in response.

"I'm going to go up to my room now and get settled for the night. Tomorrow I have business to see too."

"But, won't they stop you from leaving the area," Petunia burst out as soon as Harry finished.

"They can most assuredly try," Harry said sounding a bit like Dumbledore he thought.

Then the rage started to surface again, "You choose now to show concern about me?"

No, I will not succumb to breaking apart in front of them, I will not, I REFUSE!

Calmness enveloped him once more as he found a bit of serenity in the chaos that was his constant life.

"I'm, we're... sorry for..." Petunia was trying to get out between her sobs.

Kneeling in front of Petunia, he had the sudden urge to reach out and hug her, to try and find some piece of his mother in there. But he decided against it and placed a hand on her shoulder instead.

"Don't," he started, "not now, I want everything I've shown you to sink in before you even start to apologize."

Petunia's face now streaked with mascara lines, sank back in her husband trying to understand this boys life and make some sense out of it. Seeing from his eyes what she had subjected him to, what she had subjected Lily's son to- she abruptly passed out when she had that thought.

Vernon looked at Harry as his wife passed out, thinking that Harry had tried to show her something else.

"Relax, Vernon," Harry said, not even bothering with titles anymore. "She just passed out from the stress; she'll be fine in the morning."

With that, Harry swept passed Dudley and started up the stairs to his room. Hedwig; hooting shrilly, upset and thinking that Harry had forgotten her, nipped at his fingers when he settled her cage on the desk inside his room and let her out to fly. He didn't bother to unpack his things, because he knew that he wasn't staying here a moment longer than necessary. He instead removed his sweater and sat on the edge of his bed, and slipped the wand off his forearm. His own wand was stowed safely away in his trunk, and that had led to Harry's determination in finding out whether of not it was the wand or the wizard that the ministry traced.

All the focused magic that had ever been done at number 4 Privet Drive had been done by wand. Except for Dobby, which was something he was unable to explain. Sure Harry had performed accidental magic before without any notices from the ministry but that was before he was eleven, and he was certain that the accidental magical reversal squad had been called in to rectify the situation. Even if it was to obliviate a few teachers and students that had somehow seen Harry on the playground one minute and then on top of the school the next. But then, there was focused magic as he was referring to it, when he used his wand away from school. There were the dementors last year, but that hag Umbridge had sent them after him in an attempt to discredit him and suck out his soul. Then there was 3^rd year when he blew up Marge, accidental again, and would he have received notice of his impending expulsion if it hadn't been for Sirius breaking out of Azkaban to come and help him, or would it have just been the A.M.R.S. coming out and taking care of the situation? Mr. Weasley had come and used magic with his wand, Tonks, Moody, a handful of order members had all used magic here and there was notice sent to warn him or expel him. Finally Harry's train of thought led to Ollivanders' wand shop. That's where Harry's theory for doing what he did downstairs originated, the ministry must be informed of who buys which wand and they're tagged for underage wizards. It was a bit of a stretch in theory but it was all he had, and then he thought of how the ministry would take the tags off when they reached of age. The difficult part for Harry was he kept thinking that maybe the ministry didn't remove these tags and kept watch on certain one's, and that was the last thing that Harry needed right now, another conspiracy. But it had worked, no one had seem him collect the wand that Sirius had dropped before falling through the veil, and this piece of wood was the last thing that he had of his Godfather.

WHY DID I HAVE TO BE SO STUPID! HERMIONE'S RIGHT, I HAVE A 'SAVING PEOPLE THING' AND ALL I DO IS GET PEOPLE HURT IN THE PROCESS, IM A FUCKING MENACE!

No, you aren't. You know what you are, and you know what he did to you. You know what you have to do, so do it, and stop your damn whining, mourn Sirius, feel bad that you nearly got your friends killed, but they came out in the end, you came out in the end.

YEAH MINUS ONE GODFATHER, AND PLUS ONE UNFORGIVEABLE!

You piece of shite, didn't you listen to Dumbledore.

DUMBLEDORE IS THE LAST PERSON I WANT TO BE LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW!

Shut up and listen.

FINE.

Fix it, fix yourself, don't just wallow in your self pity, go out and make things right, you're not perfect and no one is asking you to be, you're the one now AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES, yadda yadda yadda...

You know having Hermione's voice for my conscience is a lot funnier than the real life version.

Well at least you've calmed down.

Thanks, when you wish upon a star...

Geez, the one book you can't ever forget is Pinocchio.

But you're my conscience- tears rolling down his cheeks.

And you're almost sixteen, stop your fucking blubbering and be a man.

I miss him.

At least you knew him longer than your own father, that's got to count for something, right?

I'm glad my conscience is more like me, and not the real Hermione.

Well I'm still right, aren't I, and that's what counts.

Ok ok.

Seriously you know what you have to do, so go do it, and stop crying it won't help anything, find something constructive to take your emotions out on.

Ok, I'm never really going to get over this am I?

No.

Harry wiped the tears from his face, and stood up from his bed and moved over to his desk. He opened up his trunk and pulled out a stack of parchment, a quill and a bottle of ink and set in the plan out the rest of his summer.