Harry Potter and the Secrets from the Past

HARRY POTTER AND THE SECRETS FROM THE PAST

Chapter 1. OWL MAIL

I ask to myself why when sadness falls

In the depth of my heart

Like the snow, it does not make sound

And driving like mad with lights off

In the night, to figure out if

It is so difficult to die.

"Emotions" Lucio Battisti

It was a very hot summer, just like the previous years. The lawns of Privet Drive were no longer green and luxuriant as usual, but were arid and dry.

"136.... 137.... 138..."

Harry was doing push-ups, with his arms on the bed for support and his feet on the floor. His forehead and T-shirt were sweaty, his face concentrated in effort.

Since he was still underage, he was not allowed to practice magic outside of Hogwarts, so he was trying to strengthen himself by training his body.

"150.... 151.... 152..."

He had spent the last month shut up in his bedroom, trying to avoid running into his Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and cousin Dudley, with whom he was forced to remain during his summer holidays. He knew perfectly well that he HAD to remain in that house, even though everyone knew it was a prison for him. It was the only possible way to escape his mortal enemy, Lord Voldemort.

Harry stopped reflecting on his situation and got up, wiping his forehead with his hand. Suddenly, he noticed on the horizon there was a little white spot approaching faster and faster upon him. After a few seconds, his eyes focused on the form of his beloved owl, Hedwig.

He quickly jumped backwards, and through the open window Hedwig entered the room, landing gracefully on his desk. Tied to her leg was a little piece of parchment, sealed with a red ribbon.

"Finally you came back!"

Harry was happy to see her, even if his tone was a little upset.

"Would you mind telling me why it took you so long to return?"

Hedwig seemed a little offended by his question, and after delivering the mail, she jumped into her cage and turned her back on Harry.

He felt guilty for having treated her this way, but it had been so long and he had not talked to anybody; he couldn't stop himself from letting his bad mood out on her.

He looked at the parchment in his hands, unrolled it and read it greedily: it was from Ron, and there were just a few lines on it.

"Dear Harry,

Please be patient. We're going to pick you up soon, so be ready.

Hermione and I are really looking forward to seeing you again.

See you soon, Ron

PS: Best Wishes for your 16th birthday"

Harry remained still for a few seconds, staring at the parchment, and then he turned it over, hoping to read something more, but there was nothing else. Of course, he was very disappointed by the short message, but he understood that his best friend was not able to write more, fearing that the owl could have been intercepted by the enemy.

He felt a strong surge of envy and a pain in his stomach, knowing that Ron and Hermione were together in that very moment, probably at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. He wondered what his best friends were doing.

***O***

Harry was running along a dark corridor with stone walls, lit only by a few torches. He headed toward the only door at the end of the corridor and when he opened it, he found himself in a large room, shaped like an amphitheater.

When he saw that scene in front of him, he remained still, his eyes opening wide. In the center of the amphitheater, Sirius Black was fighting against Bellatrix Lestrange, dangerously close to a stone archway, a fluttering veil hanging from it.

Harry wanted desperately to go and warn him, but he could not; it was impossible for him to move or to speak.

Suddenly, a jet of light coming from Bellatrix's wand hit Sirius right in the chest and he slowly sank backwards through the ragged veil hanging from the arch, until he disappeared completely behind it.

"NOOOOO...."

Harry woke up screaming, his pajamas soaked in sweat and his scar burning in an unbearable way.

It took him some time to realize that he was safe in his bedroom at Privet Drive

"POTTER!"

"Oh, no! Not again!" he thought, beating his fist on the bed when he heard his uncle's voice complaining from the nearby bedroom.

Then he heard heavy footsteps in the corridor, and he knew that this time, his Uncle Vernon was really upset.

His uncle entered the room in a fury and beat the door with such violence that all the pictures fell from the wall.

"That's enough, boy! You stop it with those terrible screams, or I'll send you away from this house!"

Harry was still in his bed, looking at his uncle with his open mouth, quickly trying to recover from the shock of having once more witnessed his godfather's death.

"It isn't my fault! I had a nightmare!"

"You and your damned nightmares! Can't you do something to avoid them?"

"And what am I supposed to do, can you tell me?"

Harry's temper was starting to rise. He really could not prevent those nightmares from tormenting him, and he wished he could, so badly.

Uncle Vernon was surprised by his nephew's reaction and lowered his voice.

"If you're going to scream again in the middle of the night, I swear, you'll regret being alive!"

Then Uncle Vernon exited the room, closed the door behind him and finally left Harry alone with his thoughts. Harry sat on his bed with his back against the wall and started to rub his forehead as the pain in his scar slowly began to stop.

Ever since returning to Privet Drive, every night he had horrible nightmares like the one he just had.

After his godfather's tragic death last June, Harry was no longer not the same person. In the beginning, he felt torn apart by the pain and he desperately searched for something to hold on to, some kind of anchor that might bring him salvation.

Many of the things he believed to be important in the past, things that any other boy his age could consider normal, now, they were no longer important. Harry didn't care anymore about laughter, games, or girls. Now, he had only one mission in life: defeat Lord Voldemort, and in this way, get revenge for his parents, Sirius Black, and all the innocents who had the misfortune to cross Lord Voldemort's path. It was this thought that gave him the strength to go on.

With the passing of each day, a new and stronger feeling was growing inside him: a grudge, a mixture of anger and hatred toward Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

Harry felt a sense of urgency and the need to train himself to fight Voldemort, because he was certain that they were going to meet again, sooner or later. And when that day came, he was going to be prepared to fight with all the strength he had.

But Sirius's death was not the only thing to torment his brain at that moment: there was also the prophecy, an eternal bond between him and Lord Voldemort.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...

Born to those who have thrice defied him...

Born as the seventh month dies...

And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...

And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives..."

The revelation of this prophecy had greatly shocked him, because he now knew that his destiny was already set. There was no other way; he must be either victim or murderer.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to give his tormented brain a rest.

The only thing to do now was to be ready and patiently wait for the wizards from the Order of the Phoenix to come and pick him up.