Chapter One: Feelings
The rain poured harshly on the rooftops of the homes on Privet Drive. Clouds were covering the gray skyline and the sun was no where to be found. The postman, the milkman, and many of the inhabitants in the residential area were hesitant to move from under shelter. The front yards and ditches of so many homes were filled to the brim, and many had flooded the street in front of them. The dreary scene outside only furthered the helpless feeling inside of Number Four Privet Drive.
A fifteen-year old boy looked gloomily out into the miserable day, feeling very much miserable himself. He sighed and climbed back onto his bed, only to lie on his back and stare at the cobwebbed ceiling above him. He'd had a horrid summer thus far, and he, in his opinion, had no reason to believe that it could get any better.
Little did this boy know, that all of that was about to change.
Miles away, in his office, a twinkle-eyed headmaster was scheming a plan. Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin stood in front of him, looking very satisfied with themselves, and with good reason. “That, is a brilliant idea,” said the man behind the desk.
The boy had been through so much. Harry Potter was known by every witch and wizard in the world. It wasn’t that he was extremely brilliant (which he was) or that he was extremely brave (which he was) or that he was extremely good looking (which… well you can’t have everything). He was just unlucky enough to stop the most evil wizard in the world, when he was barely a year old.
But, he had no clue of any of that until he was eleven. He had been told that his parents had died in a car crash, and had been under the influence that he was a good-for-nothing, dirty, evil little devil who belonged locked up in a cabinet. Therefore, he was kept in the dark, in many ways.
Upon his eleventh birthday, he began receiving letters from a school of witchcraft, Hogwarts. His aunt and uncle ripped, burned, and rejected the letters, but they kept coming. They even attempted to run away from the letters, but a half-giant had tracked them down and taken Harry away to his new life as a wizard.
He found that his parents were killed, not in a car crash, but by Lord Voldemort. Shortly after entering school, it became apparent that the same Lord Voldemort was after him. He had escaped him in his first year and saved the Sorcerer’s Stone. He had saved his best friend’s little sister from him in his second year. His fourth year, he escaped being kidnapped and dueling with Voldemort himself. And in the last year, he had fought off a team of Voldemort’s pawns, and barely escaped with his and his friend’s lives, only to find in a prophecy that he must be killed by Voldemort or kill Voldemort himself.
He had been reunited with his godfather in his third year, and their relationship had grown into one of a father and a son, but Voldemort also took that away. Sheer hate ran through his bones at the mention of the Dark Lord’s name, and every day it got worse.
But on this day, he couldn’t do much but lay around. He kept picturing his godfather’s death over and over in his mind; Sirius’ grinning face as he fought; the streak of green light as it hit him; the graceful fall of his body. It tortured him to keep thinking of it, but with the forced quietness of the house on Privet Drive, all he could do was think of it.
Frustrated, he tore out of bed and went to his trunk. He ripped the trunk open and grabbed various scrolls and parchment and slammed them on his bed fiercely. Homework, he concluded, was the only way to get it off his mind.
There he sat, his quill scratching on the parchment, only stopping occasionally for Harry to read the book beside him. He worked for nearly an hour before he hit a sentence in the textbook that reminded him of Sirius. The empty feeling in his stomach that had been plugged with his homework soon arose once again. Why did he have to take him? He was the one person I had left, and he had to take him too! Everyone that I grow close to gets affected! But there was nothing he could do about it. He had tried to run before, but despite himself, he always ended up staying. This time, he didn’t even bother getting up off the bed.
“Harry! Time for dinner!” came the call from downstairs. For once, Harry was actually glad for dinner, hoping with all of his might that he could finally get his mind off Sirius.
He closed his books willingly, and hopped off the bed, before reminding himself that it was his aunt and uncle that he was eating with. He longed so badly to be sitting at the table with Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and the rest of the gang, and it hurt him just thinking about it.
“GET DOWN HERE NOW BOY!” boomed Vernon’s voice up to Harry’s room. Shocked back into reality, Harry scurried out of his room and down the hallway into the kitchen.
Once he entered the kitchen however, all reality zoomed out the window. Dressed in their muggle best were Tonks, Remus, Alastor Moody, and Mr. Weasley, each wearing a smile and Tonks waving furiously. “Wotcher, Harry!” said the vibrant young woman, whose hair had been fixed in to a bushy brown ponytail for the day. Harry noticed that she looked suprisingly, a lot like his friend Hermione. Remus grinned mischievously upon Harry’s entrance into the room, but Harry could tell that it was probably one of the few times he had smiled in the last week. Alastor Moody nodded in his direction, and Mr. Weasley, beaming at Harry, also nodded.
Harry’s mind went blank. How? What? When? “How did…?” Harry began, before being cut off by Tonks. “Harry, I know you have a bunch of questions, but we’re really in a hurry so you need to go upstairs and get your things packed.” He nodded, and practically floated over to his room.
Harry was ecstatic. It had only been two days since his return from Hogwarts, and already he was done staying at Privet Drive. He grabbed his things and stuffed them hastily into his trunk. He pushed muggle clothes and robes deep into his case, and was furiously searching for his books when Tonks entered. She helped him to get Hedwig and her cage clean, and then they began the trek back down the hall.
However, when the two of them reached the kitchen once again, Harry’s heart stopped. Vernon Dursley was being levitated dangerously close to a ceiling fan, and Petunia and Dudley were gaping fear-stricken at their husband and father. Harry blinked his eyes and searched the room looking for the caster of the spell, only to find that Remus Lupin had his wand raised and had a fierce snarl on his face. “NEVER….EVER…SAY THAT AGAIN!” cried the normally calm man in the kitchen. Vernon Dursley whimpered incoherent words of apology in Remus’ direction, sniffling and choking on every word. Moody grabbed Remus’ arm and said as calmly and sincerely as he could, “Let him go son, it’s not worth it.” Harry turned to see Tonks clearly shaken at the scene in front of her, and whipped back around to see Petunia on the verge of another faint. Mr. Weasley grabbed Remus from his other side, and told him, “Moody’s right. You’ll go to Azkaban Remus. Think about it.” Remus’ eyes and jaw locked in place, and for a moment Harry could tell Remus was thinking it was worth it, but he finally dropped the man to the ground, and turned away. Petunia gasped and Dudley bumbled out, “…dad…”