Leaving for Good?

Chapter 1

It was a stormy summers day. Lightning streaked across the black sky followed by roaring thunder. The rain was drumming against the small window.

The lightning illuminated a small and skinny boy, who was watching the sky with dull green eyes. Pain, sadness and defeat were evident in these, once so bright eyes.

The boy was, of course, Harry Potter, and the overwhelming pain he was feeling was because of four things.

Sirius, Voldemort, guilt and his uncle.

"Sirius!" whispered Harry, staring at the small mirror. But tonight, as well as every night since coming back to Privet Drive, he got no reply. Harry shuddered. Thinking about the night at the Department. Sirius, the veil, his friends, Dumbledore, the prophecy,

Voldemort.

Voldemort. Every night since Sirius's death he had nightmares, not just nightmares, visions of torture, seeing Muggles being killed, men, women and children alike. He didn't know if his visions were true or if they were just in his imagination, made by Voldemort. Like the vision about Sirius. Every night he was tormented with his guilt. His godfather's death, Cedric, his parents, Fred.

Everything was his fault. His godfather died, because he fell into Voldemort's trap. His friends injured because of that. Cedric dead, because of his 'noble antics'. His parents because of the prophecy. And Fred...they didn't know if he was dead or alive. But he was taken. By Voldemort. And it was Harry's fault that Voldemort was back. So it was his fault, despite the Weasleys, most of all George and Ginny, Angelina, Remus, Dumbledore, Hermione and many more telling him it isn't, that Fred was taken a year ago, while the Weasleys were travelling to safety. To number 12 Grimmauld Place. He remembered Hermione's letter and the shock and guilt he felt with it.

Dear Harry,

I just got news from Professor Dumbledore. He said that the Weasleys were attacked! I don't know what or where it happened, but I know that Ron is fine. I don't know about the others, though. Oh Harry! I'm so worried! I was wondering, if I should write you or not, but I thought you just had to know. I hope we will see each other soon. If I get any news about Ron or the others, I will inform you right away. Love,

Hermione

He knew it was Voldemort. He just knew. He was glad to hear Ron was fine, but that didn't take his guilt about the attack in general. In fact it was worse when Dumbledore himself wrote him.

Dear Mr. Potter,

Miss Granger told me that she informed you about the attack on the Weasleys. I am sorry to inform you, that there has been a victim in this attack.

Fred Weasley was captured.

On a happier note, all the others are fine.

Sincerely yours,

Albus Dumbledore

He was afraid to look at the Weasleys after that. When the other Order members took him to Grimmauld Place after a few weeks, he was staring at the ground the whole time. He didn't talk or eat or sleep. That lasted for about five days. On the fifth day, George pulled Harry into the library....

"Harry? You know you can still look at us!"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, Harry! If..."

"It's is my fault! All my fault! First Cedric and now Fred! He was taken because of me."

"Shut up, Harry! I don't blame you! Nobody does. It isn't your fault! Voldemort would have found a way to come back. If it hadn't happen now, maybe it would have happened in a month or in a year."

"Or maybe never!"

"You know it would have happened. This is the beginning of a war, Harry. We need to stand together. I won't let you fight alone and I know Ron and Hermione won't either. Now, stop feeling guilty! I miss Fred and I know you do too, but cutting yourself off from everyone isn't a solution. Believe me. I did the same the last weeks. And I know that I got hell from Angelina and Alicia. So if you don't want to face these two, as well as Ginny and Hermione, you better stop moping around."

After that he became a bit closer to George. He could talk to him about his feelings, without being laughed at or being viewed as an attention seeking brat.

But what would George think now? If he could see him, lying on the ground in his small bedroom, clothes torn and dirty. Bruises on his arms, chest and back. Skinny, as he hadn't eaten since returning from Hogwarts. Would he laugh? Would he care?

You have no one who cares about you! All are dead. Or will be soon.

"No," whispered Harry weakly, trying not to believe this inner voice. He knew it was Voldemort, as his scar was constantly throbbing nowadays, but he couldn't help starting to believe it. He was told that he is worthless and a murderer. And what his uncle loved to remind him everyday -

"You are nothing more than a useless orphan. Be glad we took you in, you worthless freak."

And that statement was mostly followed by a kick in the ribs, or a slap in the face...

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"Did you see him today?"

"No, my Lord. I kept watching the house the whole day but I didn't see anything. They hide the boy well."

"How is the security?"

"It is strong my Lord, but nothing we can't break. What I gathered from spying on his watchers is that when the spells are broken it'll take about 30 seconds for the watchers to get there. The reinforcement takes five minutes at the most."

"Good. Someone else will take over tomorrow. You are dismissed."

"Yes, my Lord." The servant bowed and left the room.

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Harry was called downstairs to make dinner. He gave a bitter laugh about the threats directed at his uncle and how well they worked out. Oh yes, his uncle made sure that he wrote a letter to the Order every three days. He checked it before Harry was allowed to send it. These are the only letters he wrote and received all summer. His uncle made sure of that. Hedwig was locked away after delivering the letter to an Order member. Harry remembered quite well what happened when Pig first arrived here. His ribs were still sore from that. Pig flew back without delivering his burden. His uncle made also sure to let Harry add in the next letter, that he doesn't want any mail. Of course that wish was granted, even if Remus wrote in his reply letter, that Ron was and still is very peeved about that.

While he finished cooking dinner and his relatives sat down to eat (he had to polish the glasses in the meantime), he didn't realise that someone was watching him intently, following his every move.

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"Anything new?"

"They treat him like a slave. He didn't get anything to eat."

"This will end soon."

"I know. And I also know that I'll be the one to get him out."

"Good. Where are his watchers?"

"It's just Fletcher tonight. And he is at Figgs'."

"Great watchers they are."

"Yes. And how sure they are that his 'family' is treating him well."

"Fools. When will you get him out?"

"When the time is right. And the time is right very soon."

"I will see you soon then."

"Yes. Me and Harry."

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When Harry finished cleaning the kitchen he had to serve his 'family', while they were watching TV.

"BOY! Get me a beer NOW!"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon!"

"Hurry up, will you! I don't want the beer to get warm!"

Harry hurried in the kitchen to get the beer. When he returned, he was very careful to cross the room without falling over some legs or blocking the view to the ten o'clock news.

A pair of blue eyes narrowed at the sight, while watching Harry's every move through the large window facing the garden.

A few minutes later, his aunt demanded a tea. Harry went into the kitchen to make her a cup. When he finished he carried it back into the living room.

The person outside, sitting on the wall separating Privet Drive Numbers Two and Four, watched carefully and saw how Dudley started to smirk and tripped Harry.

The person outside gave a growl as Harry fell down with a yell, hot tea scalding his hands.

He landed on his already cracked ribs with a whimper. The cup broke and tea seeped away in the thick carpet leaving an ugly puddle. Petunia shrieked and Dudley started yelling and holding his shin in 'pain'. Vernon Dursley's face became purple with rage. A vein throbbing on his forehead.

He pointed a fat finger at Harry and roared, "You insolent brat! Look what you did to poor Dudley and the carpet! We took you in and this is how you repay us? You will be punished for that! MARK MY WORDS!"

Vernon stood up slowly and started to walk menacing to Harry. He pulled him up by the hair, striking him hard in the face. Harry flew into the mantle of the fireplace with the force of his uncle hitting him, sliding down and whimpering in pain. Vernon lifted his foot to kick Harry when the back-door flew open and crashed into the wall, leaving a dent.

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When the man outside saw Vernon moving to Harry, he hopped from the wall and moved in lightning speed to the back door and threw it open.

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"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING??!!" roared Vernon Dursley glaring at the door, his foot very close to Harry's stomach. A tall, about six-and-a-half feet, broad-shouldered man stood in the doorway. His form illuminated by the lightning on the black evening sky. He was wearing a long, black leather trench coat and a dark blue, hooded, cape with silver runes and linings at the hem of it. The cape was wet with rain and spread around the shoulders covering his front. The person's face was hidden by the cloak.

"I could ask you the same thing, Dursley!" came the quiet, but forceful reply, but still making it feel like roaring with anger.

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, YOU FREAK!"

"I will give you freak. Get away from Mr. Potter."

"WHY THE HELL SHOULD I??" roared Vernon his foot even closer to Harry. "GET THE HELL OUT BEFORE I CALL THE POLICE!"

Suddenly the room crackled with power. Vernon gasped and went pale.

"Move away from Harry, or I will blast you into pieces for your wife to scrub of the wall."

The Dursleys felt as if all the air in the room had disappeared, as the power increased more and more.

"MOVE, NOW" barked the man suddenly. Vernon stumbled back and tried stand protectively in front of his son and wife.

"Who- who are you?" stuttered Petunia.

"I am your worst nightmare," came the icy reply.

The man crossed the room, his cape bellowing behind him, and crouched next to Harry, feeling his pulse.

Harry's eyes fluttered open. He tried to see clearly but the pain was too much. He rasped, "Who are you?" before he lost his consciousness.

The man snapped his fingers, and Harry's trunk stood packed next to him, with Hedwig's cage on top. When Hedwig saw Harry she started to screech loudly. The man conjured up a cloth and put it around the cage, silencing Hedwig's screeches. He shrunk the trunk and put it into his pocket. With another wave of his hand Hedwig's cage disappeared with a slight 'pop'. The Dursleys stared in fear at the cloaked man. He pulled another cape, similar to his own but without the runes, out of his pocket and wrapped Harry in it. He lifted Harry carefully in his arms and turned around to look at the Dursleys.

"I will be back. Mark my words! I will be back and you will pay for what you did!"

The Dursleys were suddenly knocked back by an invisible force. They fell into the couch, which turned over in the process, and landed on the ground passed out. The man left, with Harry in his arms through the back door. He crossed the garden and stood next to the shed before turning back to the house.

He muttered a quiet "Morsmordre" before Apparating away, leaving the Dark Mark hovering over Number Four Privet Drive.

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