Blood by The Lord of Chaos
Summary: Harry's sent reeling when he learns that Professor Snape is his bio dad, and if that were all he had to deal with, he'd probably be all right, but he's got werewolves, escaped convicts, a stubborn Dark Lord, and his own inner demons to deal with. Starts third year. Rating mostly for violence. Story deals with mental health, bigotry and child abuse. See more tags in Story Notes (Some are big spoilers so beware).
Categories: Parental Snape > Biological Father Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Ron
Snape Flavour: Snape Comforts, Snape is Loving
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Family
Media Type: None
Tags: Werewolves
Takes Place: 3rd Year, 4th summer, 4th Year
Warnings: Abusive Dursleys, Bullying, Neglect, Profanity, Romance/Slash, Torture, Violence
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 17 Completed: No Word count: 226526 Read: 35599 Published: 24 Jun 2020 Updated: 04 Apr 2022
Demons by The Lord of Chaos
Though he had resolved to stay in Diagon Alley, Harry hadn't felt like leaving the Leaky Cauldron after his rather unpleasant talk with Snape. From what he could see from the window in his room, the Alley still looked little better than deserted, and Harry didn't feel like mingling with the grim looking Aurors, who had just lost some of their own. He was going a bit stir crazy though, and the next morning he had decided to stop cloistering himself and get back into the alley.

Snape was right, though it galled to admit it to himself. Short of Hogwarts, Diagon Alley was the safest place for him. The universe, it seemed, wasn't satisfied with this self-admission though. That morning, as he sat himself at the bar for breakfast before he headed out, Harry discovered that Snape had been right about another thing: Harry was Fudge's PR piece, and the man wasn't about to let him hide himself away.

"Harry!" said a jovial voice behind him.

He turned around and was surprised to see the Minister of Magic standing behind him, with two red robed Aurors flanking him.

"So good to see you again. Just sitting down to breakfast I see, why don't you join me, I was just about to have something to eat myself. Tom," he called to the Leakey Cauldron's proprietor. "Why don't you set us up in the back."

Tom of course obliged, and Harry soon found his breakfast plate being removed and himself following Tom to the private dining room in the back of the inn. Fudge had an avuncular air about him and threw an arm over Harry's shoulder as they walked to the back, asking generic questions about his studies and his time in the alley. Harry managed to force out some awkward, quick answers through the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat caused by discomfort, but Fudge didn't seem to notice. The whole thing made him uncomfortable, there was just something about it that seemed so fake. Harry wanted to throw the Minister's arm off of him and walk in the opposite direction, but he supposed that one did not do that to the Minister of Magic.

One of the Aurors went in before them and checked the room before the rest of them entered. Before Harry knew it, he was seated across from Minister Fudge, two plates of hot English breakfast before them and the two Aurors and Tom were leaving them to eat alone. Harry found himself rather nervous to be dining alone with the man. Why on Earth did the most powerful man in wizarding UK want to eat breakfast with him? The night he had left the Dursley's was one thing, but this was just bizarre.

Harry didn't know exactly what to say to the man, but this didn't seem to be an issue since Fudge seemed quite content to guide the conversation, and only needed small nods and 'mmhmm's from Harry to keep going. Harry found himself pushing his food around his plate for the most part, while Fudge seemed very capable, somehow, of both eating a good bit, while also talking just as much without talking with his mouth full. Harry started to idly wonder if magic was involved somehow. Then he realized that the room was quiet, and he focused back on the minister who seemed to be waiting for some sort of response from Harry.

"Sorry," he said.

Fudge just smiled at him genially but with a hint of condescension.

"I was just saying how it must be nice to know that security procedures have been tightened on the alley. Now you can get back out there and enjoy your freedom," Fudge said lightly.

Though he had already been uncomfortable eating with the man; now his entire appetite disappeared as Snape's prediction came back to mind. He had, of course, already planned on returning to the alley, but he wanted to test something first.

"I don't know," Harry said. "Maybe it would be safer for everyone if I just stayed in here. I wouldn't want anyone else to get hurt like Ms. Adler did."

Fudge momentarily looked confused at the name of the dead Muggle woman, before he looked on Harry with a faux look of fond exasperation.

"Harry," he said. "Everyone's safe again. The ministry won't let anything happen. Now what will the public think, with the Boy Who Lived hiding like this?"

"Oh, I don't expect they'll notice," Harry said. "I'm no Tacheous Worth or anything," Harry said, thinking of a Quiditch player who had been in the news a lot lately.

"Not notice you? Why Harry of course they notice the Boy-Who-Lived," Fudge said as if Harry was just being modest. "That's why you have such a responsibility to help people feel safe again."

"But are they?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Fudge said emphatically. "People are safe, the Ministry is keeping everyone safe. And we all have to do our part to keep everything moving along. Why there are people hiding in their homes, and shop keepers with nary a customer and it's all pointless, and what's more it's fixable. You can fix it Harry."

"I just..."

"Harry," Fudge interrupted, a strained smile plastered on his face. "I trust that you will help the public with this. I would so much hate to think that you wouldn't," he said with a firm intensity.

Harry was suddenly reminded that Fudge had sent Hagrid to prison only a few months prior, on no evidence whatsoever. He had done it to placate the public. While he didn't think that the Minister had any reason to throw him in prison, he didn't really want to see what he might do if Harry directly challenged him.

"I will always help the public," Harry said. Though not necessarily the ministry, he thought. "Really, I've had some shopping to do, I should head out there," he said, excusing himself from the table.

"Have a good day Harry, it was good dining with you," The Minister called after him.

Harry made a noncommittal noise as he passed the two Aurors flanking the doorway. It was pretty embarrassing to be coerced into doing something you were already planning to do. Even worse to find that Snape was right. Speaking of the devil, there he was, sitting so he could see the doorway to the private dining room and the entrances to the Leakey Cauldron at the same time. A different face, as always, but Harry could see the same evaluating look on his face as he seemed to look at everything and nothing at the same time. Harry walked past him without giving any indication that he knew the man was there. He went upstairs and grabbed his book bag, checking to make sure his invisibility cloak was tucked safely inside. He walked outside, knowing that Snape was a distance behind him.

The alley was little more populated than it had been the day prior. Shoppers here and there, walking with a purpose, not stopping to mingle or window shop, just walking towards their destinations, so they could get home as quickly as possible. Diagon Alley was just plain depressing as it was. Stone faced Aurors everywhere, scared shoppers moving about, and on the cover of every newspaper and magazine on the paper stand by the Leakey Cauldron, a picture of a burned patch of ground, what was left after the attack in Hogsmead.

Harry spent the day trying to follow his usual routines, but there was a pall over the whole thing. Though he wasn't very active that day, he returned to the Leakey Cauldron that evening feeling exhausted, and when he fell asleep that night, he dreamed of fire.


IIIIIIIIIIII


Peter waited nervously in the old cottage, the unconscious forms of its muggle occupants still lying prone in the next room. He glanced with trepidation at the clock on the mantle. The meeting should have started two minutes ago. He knew that this wasn't a long time to wait, but it felt like an eternity. An eternity while he was sure a herd of Aurors were going to burst through every door. Of course, the arrival of those he awaited wasn't that much better, in his opinion. Suddenly, there was a loud crashing noise, as the front door of the cottage was smashed through. An angry witch stormed in, her thin black robes flowing behind her skeletal frame as her sunken black eyes took in the room and its occupant.

"Petrificus Totalus," she said, her wand pointed at Peter. Peter's eyes widened as the spell flew at his face, shields and counter curses leaving his mind. His arms snapped to his sides, and his legs stuck together, stiff as boards, and all he could do was look at the ceiling as Belatrix started walking around him. He could hear her talking to someone, but there was nothing in his head except the panic that had been growing since before she had arrived.

Suddenly Peter's body was floating, he righted in the air, and the spells on him all canceled, and he stumbled as his feet hit the ground. He found himself facing three wizards, and one heavily scowling witch, who were all staring at him. Rookwood, Beckett, and Dolohov had come in after Lestrange, and it was Rookwood who brought his wand down having just released Peter. They all had their wands out and Peter realized he had dropped his own when Belatrix had arrived; he eyed it on the floor but did not move to pick it up.

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't turn your brain to mush and feed you to a manticore," Belatrix demanded.

"I can get you Potter," Peter was quick to say. "And Dumbledore, if you dare."

"Lead us into a trap, you mean, like you led your Lord."

"I merely told him exactly what you would have told him if you had known their location. I told him just as I told him everything else; I told him their location in good faith, as I was always faithful to our lord."

"Faithful?" She shrieked. "Crucio," she cried out, only to have her wand pushed to the side by Rookwood. Peters knees gave out at the near miss, and he found himself picking himself up off the floor a moment later.

"Let's hear what he has to say before we turn his brains to mush, yes?" said Rookwood.

"I was faithful!" Belatrix shrieked at Rookwood. "Beckett was faithful, even you were faithful in your comfortable position as a spy. He's been sitting on his own wand this past decade doing nothing. He was never a believer. He bore our lord no true loyalty, he just wanted a piece of his power."

"That's true," said Peter, "I was never a believer, but that doesn't matter, the end result is the same. I need the Dark Lord to succeed, now more than ever, and I haven't been doing nothing," Peter bit out. He knew that his life hung in the balance, and he was the only one who could save it. It was a good thing he had come prepared to make this argument.

"I have positioned myself next to Potter, Dumbledore, and a number of their supporters. I am ready to strike, and I am ready to collect information. Just as your own brother-in-law has done at the ministry."

"You should have been searching for our Lord, aided in his return."

"And wound up useless in Azkaban as you did? Or get lost in the Himalayas, or Merlin knows where else. The Prophesy is not complete, so we know that the dark lord will come back. I simply chose to be in a position to aid him when he returned. In one night, we can destroy the vanguard that stood in the Dark Lord’s way, and when he returns, we will all be rewarded immensely." And Peter could stop living as a rat.

"And how will you do that exactly?" Rookwood asked. "It seems unlikely that a dead man could be positioned to do what you have claimed."

Peter grimaced; he rather didn't like showing people.

"A, um, a demonstration is in order," he said. He closed his eyes, focused inward and with a pop, he was Wormtail the rat. He transformed back into Peter. The four escaped convicts just stared at him in surprise.

"I'm, ah, the youngest Weasley boy's pet rat. He shares a dorm with Potter at Hogwarts. Kill me, and you take an asset away from your lord."

"The rat suits you quite well," Dolohov said, speaking for the first time, his voice hoarse, and his head hanging slightly to the side. His eyes though, were focused piercingly on Peter. "We could use a rat, I suppose."

Rookwood was looking at him speculatively, and Belatrix looked murderous, but not like she was actually moments away from killing him.

"How will you get me into Hogwarts?" Beckett asked.

"You are not burning down Hogwarts," Belatrix said thunderously.

"I could take out Dumbledore and Potter, and destroy that bastion of muggleborns."

"Potter and Hogwarts belong to the Dark Lord. The castle is his birthright as the Heir of Slytherin," Rookwood said. "And you're a fool if you think you could kill Dumbledore so easily."

"Your sole purpose right now is keeping the Aurors distracted while we find the Dark Lord. You getting captured in Hogwarts will only be a hindrance," Dolohov said scathingly.

"You don't want Potter?" Peter asked despondently. He had been sure Potter would be one of their targets. He had waited twelve years, positioned himself to be ultimately useful to the Dark Lord. But the Dark Lord had yet to come back, and he was so very tired of being a rat; of being a pet. The Dark Lord would return, that they knew, and when he did, Peter would be rewarded, but who knew when that would be.

"Potter's day will come," Rookwood said with an intense rasp. "Dumbledore's as well, I assure you. The Dark Lord will wait no more. We will find him, and we will restore him, and we will not risk being captured to do what is the Dark Lord's right."

"But.."

"Go back to your post. The Dark Lord will summon you when it is time. Bare faith and allegiance until then and you shall be rewarded," Rookwood said imperiously and clearly dismissively. He turned back to Beckett and started talking very condescendingly towards him, but Peter wasn't paying him any mind. It had to be soon, it just had to. He didn't know how much longer he could last.

"Enough, we all know this," Dolohov said, to whatever Rookwood had been saying. "We have been here too long."

"Yes," Rookwood said. "We have tarried." He turned to leave, not even giving Peter a sideways glance. "Be good," he told Beckett. "And be loud."

Belatrix gave Peter one more murderous glare and turned to follow Rookwood. Dolohov left after her. Beckett, muttering about fire, reached into his robes and disappeared. Peter raised a trembling hand up to his face. The end had been in sight, yet he still had long to go, too long.

He bent to reach for his wand, which was still on the floor when the remains of the splintered door were brushed aside by a man who stormed in. Peter lunged forward grabbing his wand, but the man paid him no mind. He walked into the center of the room; his intense, almost feral looking, eyes scanning everything before he stopped and took a deep breath through his nose, which was then let out through clenched teeth. He nodded to himself.

"Fix the door," he said, not looking at Peter.

Peter just stared at him for a moment, and Greyback turned his head to look at him with just one of his mad eyes. Peter turned his attention towards the door, which he repaired quickly, though it now looked decrepit.

"So, tell me how you can get me into Hogwarts," Greyback told Peter.

Peter was somewhat flummoxed; he hadn't been expecting that.

"I can't," he said. "I..."

"So tell me how you will get the boy out."

"I, I can't do that," Peter exclaimed.

"Then what were you promising them, mister inside-man?"

"You heard Rookwood, Potter belongs to the Dark Lord," Peter said, ready to disappear if Greyback took his words as a challenge.

"So you can get me into Hogwarts," Greyback said.

"Yes, but," Peter started.

"The Dark Lord is not here," Greyback said fiercely, an intense look on his face. "I am, and I know your little secret and I can find you wherever you go and make you a midnight snack. I get Potter. He is mine, and when the Dark Lord returns, if he returns, I will give Potter to him for my due. Now, how do I get into Hogwarts."


IIIIIIIII


Two more muggle buildings were firebombed in the following weeks; the Canterbury Cathedral in Kent, and a barracks building at the Catterick Garrison in Yorkshire. Both attacks were timed for maximum loss of life. Beckett was caught on CCTV again; this time at the Garrison. Yet he hadn't made another appearance in the wizarding world, and despite the panic currently happening in the muggle world, the wizarding world seemed to be forgetting their previous fear and had gotten back to their daily routines. If Harry had been so daring, he would have snuck out into the muggle world to get a newspaper. No muggle papers were sold in the alley.

A couple of weeks after the Hogsmeade bombing, Harry could almost believe that it had never happened, at least, judging by how it was business as usual in Diagon Alley. The usual hustle and bustle had returned; with whole families walking about, witches and wizards window shopping, and hawkers calling out wares at passing shoppers. However, when he looked closely, Harry could see a tension. A mother holding her children close, a man looking at passersby suspiciously, and just in general, the feeling of the world waiting for the other shoe to drop, not caring that it already had, twice, in the Muggle world.

Regardless of what else was happening in the world, Harry was fairly excited for the upcoming two days. Firstly, because Harry was at that moment awaiting the Weasley's and Hermione's arrival at the Leakey Cauldron, and secondly, because the next day, they would be boarding the train at Kings Cross Station, on their way to another school year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. While Harry wasn't looking forward to having to actually interact with Snape on a regular basis, Hogwarts had always felt like his home, more than anywhere else, and he eagerly awaited being able to return with his friends.

Harry got out of bed, the last remnants of sleep falling away as he stretched and rubbed his eyes. He changed into his school slacks and dress shirt and threw a plain robe over the ensemble. Looking in the mirror, he found himself looking at his own face, rather than the clothes he was wearing. He frowned for a moment and tried to imagine himself looking more like Snape than his father, like he had in his dream from weeks prior. He scowled at himself and walked out the door of his room.

Sitting down at the bar, Harry greeted Tom, who said hello to Harry, gave him some breakfast, and went off to take an order from a couple sitting in a booth.

Harry glanced around casually, his eyes passing over a disguised Snape, who, as usual, had only a black coffee in front of him.

"So," said Tom, who had returned to the bar. "Are you excited to be returning to school tomorrow?"

"Very," said Harry. "It'll be good to see everyone again and be able to use magic."

"Can't quite remember how I managed when I was your age," Tom said with a wry grin. "I don't think a day goes by when I haven't cast ten spells before I've even opened the Cauldron."

"Well," Harry said. "I've only got three and a half more summers to get on with."

"Don't be too eager to grow up," Tom said. "You can't go back to being thirteen."

Harry smiled and said, "Yeah," before turning back to his breakfast. Really, he thought, you could tell most kids to enjoy their carefree youth while they had it, but Harry wasn't sure he had ever been carefree. He doubted he would ever look back at being thirteen and wish he could go back to what he had now. He could do without annual attempts at his life, crazy dark lords, and terrorists. Of course, nothing said he wouldn't have to deal with it when he was older as well.

He had just gotten up from the bar stool when he heard an excited "Harry," from behind. He turned around in time to see a mass of bushy brow hair as he received an enthusiastic hug from his friend Hermione.

"Hey Hermione," Harry said while hugging his friend, and trying not to get any of her hair into his mouth. "How was France?"

"Oh it was… Wait forget France, what's this about someone trying to kidnap you?" Hermione said.

"How'd you hear about that?" Harry asked.

"I read the paper, why didn't you say anything in your letters?" Hermione said with a frown.

"You were having fun in France, I didn't want you worrying," Harry said with a shrug.

"Oh, that's nice, now every time I go on vacation, I can worry about all the horrible things you are keeping to yourself."

"Well maybe if you didn't just assume something horrible was going to happen to me you wouldn't worry so much. Honestly, it's not like something is always going on," Harry said. Hermione just raised an eyebrow at him.

"Alright, so something horrible probably will happen," he said. "But that's not the point."

"And the point is?" Hermione asked.

Harry opened his mouth to reply but found he didn't actually have a point. He shrugged. "I suppose I can give you a heads up the next time something big happens." He almost chocked on the words thinking about Snape sitting across the room. That Snape was his father was something he certainly wasn't planning on telling anyone.

"But you are alright, aren't you?" Hermione asked.

"Well yeah, I'm not the one who wound up dead," Harry said.

"Wait, Fenrir Greyback is dead." Hermione said in surprise.

"What, no, I thought you said you read about it in the paper."

"I did. It didn't say anything about anyone dying." Hermione said, now very concerned.

Harry himself hadn't actually read any of the articles that mentioned either of his attempted kidnappings, but he had assumed that the woman who had died saving his life would have been mentioned.

"Ms. Adler, she lived in my neighborhood. She attacked Greyback; she's the reason I got away, but Greyback killed her," Harry said with a touch of anger and sadness.

Hermione looked aghast for a moment before Harry suddenly found himself in another hug. He was rescued by the timely arrival of Ron.

"Oy," called Ron from the cleared space in front of the Leakey Cauldron's fireplace, the flames behind him turning green. "That's long enough, let the man breath. He's got people out for his blood, he doesn't need anyone trying to squeeze the life out of him." Harry was rather grateful for the reprieve and grinned at Ron, who was crossing the room towards him while Percy Weasley stepped out of the green flames. The two boys slapped each other on the backs by way of greeting. Harry didn't have long to wait before he was surrounded by Weasleys. He was, of course, happy to see them all, even Percy, but he was somewhat put out to find out, after various greetings and some antics from the twins, that the Weasleys senior intended for everyone to stay together that day as a group. Harry had been planning to go off with Ron and Hermione alone, and having Snape as chaperone was bad enough.

The Weasleys and Hermione all got rooms in the Leakey Cauldron and Harry waited for them all to settle in. The twins were the first downstairs and Harry suspected they had just dropped their trunks in their rooms and come back down.

"So, how's our team's favorite seeker doing after a summer of no flying," Fred asked coming up next to Harry and putting an arm over his shoulder.

"Probably gone mad, I bet, getting up to all sorts of trouble," George said from Harry's other side, throwing his own arm over Harry's shoulders.

Harry ducked down from between the both of them and turned to face them. "I'm your only Seeker," he said with a grin. "Besides, I did get to fly, I flew all the way from Surrey to the Leakey Cauldron."

Here the twins looked impressed.

"No, really?" Fred asked.

"How'd you avoid getting spotted by the muggles?" George asked.

"Well," Harry said. "It took me a while, but I managed to fasten my invisibility cloak so I could fly with it."

"You have an invisibility cloak," George said, incredulous.

"Yeah, it was my dad's, Ron's never mentioned?"

"He probably wanted us to think he was sneakier than he was, getting around the castle at night like that."

"Still though," said Fred. "Flying to London seems pretty tame for this one. Are you sure you didn't slay a dragon, or discover that you could speak to fish."

"No, nothing like that," Harry said, assuming they meant other than narrowly avoiding getting abducted by a werewolf.

"Well surely you stopped some sort of heist here in the alley," George said. Harry shook his head. "Pulled off a heist?" Another head shake, though with a grin. "Discovered some sort of innate and rare magical ability?"

"No," Harry said. "Well yeah, sort of, actually. It was just accidental magic, I guess, but I passed through solid matter."

"Are you serious?" asked George.

"Yeah," said Harry. "I wondered afterwards if there was a spell to do that. It might make getting to classes easier if I could just run through walls."

"If that's the best you can think to do with the ability to walk through walls, then I'm not sure that I want to continue affiliating with you," said George.

"Escape from Filch?" Harry asked.

"There you go," said Fred, ruffling Harry's hair. "Right after you've planted a dozen dung bombs in his office. Still, I've never heard of anyone doing that," said Fred.

"Yeah, you're probably the first," George commented.

"First what," Ron asked, having just come down from his room.

"First bloke who could stand being in the same room as you for more than five minutes," Fred told his brother with a wicked grin.

Ron stuck his tongue out at him.

"Oh honestly Ron, you would think you were still a first year," Hermione said having just come back from settling into her room.

"They started it," Ron said.

"Oh let's not start anything boys," Mrs. Weasley said, the rest of the Weasley clan in tow. "We've got enough to do today without your squabbling about."

"We could run our errands faster if we split up." George said.

"And have you causing mischief throughout the alley? I don’t think so. Now come on."

The seven Weasleys, plus Harry and Hermione walked out of the Leakey Cauldron and up to the barrier to Diagon Alley. Mrs. Weasley pulled out her wand from her handbag and tapped the bricks to get into the alley. The bricks started turning and rearranging themselves pulling away from the center. Harry had seen this all a dozen times before, but he could still remember the wonder he had felt the first time he had seen it. George, on the other hand, looked like he was seeing the magical gateway for the first time, and Harry wondered if, in his own lack of enthusiasm, he was beginning to take magic for granted.

They went all over the alley, Mrs. Weasley in the front, leading the group, Mr. Weasley in the back making sure no one fell back to window gaze, and Harry in the middle. It didn't take Harry too long to realize that Snape wasn't following, and suddenly Mrs. Weasley's insistence that they all stick together made more sense. She and Mr. Weasley were now his chaperones; Snape had likely gone back to Hogwarts to prepare for the start of term the next day. Of course, while he would prefer the Weasleys senior to Snape any day, their close proximity put a damper on discussing anything other than trips to Paris and Egypt.

They stopped at Flourish and Blotts to pick up books, and Madam Malkin's for robes. Harry said a small goodbye to Mr. Ashwinder at the apothecary and reminded himself to try to guide their group to some of the other shops he had frequented so that he could say goodbye to many of the people he had become fond of over the summer.

Harry found himself rather excited, though not as excited as Ron was, for their last stop. Olivander's hadn't changed since Harry had visited on his eleventh birthday, and Ron was practically bouncing on his heels like a soon to be first year as he eagerly awaited finding his new wand. Mrs. Weasley gave Ron a slightly exasperated look as they went in, probably recalling the exact circumstances under which Ron had broken his hand-me-down wand. Of course, fifteen minutes later and a good two dozen wands tried, she looked very proud when Ron found his wand. It was a very different process from when Harry had gotten his wand. Ron didn't just randomly swish various wands, he cast a spell with each one, with a great variety of results. The wand he chose however, or rather the one that chose him, made itself apparent when Ron first picked it up. It didn't make a scene like Harry's had when he had first held it, it was just apparent when he picked it up that it was his wand. Ron's face lit up, and he looked at the wand like he had never seen one before, and almost imperceptibly there was a hum, a tingling sensation as from the air itself, like magic was in the air. Then it was gone, but Harry didn't need to see Ron cast Glacius on the glass of water to know that he had the right one, though the water froze solid instantly. Mr. Weasley was beaming, and Mrs. Weasley gave her son a big hug. Mr. Olivander started putting wands away, and Harry realized he had half expected some sort of crazy story to be attached to this wand.

'I remember every wand I've ever made, Mr. Weasley, every wand. It just so happens that the wood for this wand came from Merlin's staff.' Harry smiled at the thought.

Ron's excitement was somewhat short lived when Mrs. Weaselsy snatched up the wand and put it back in its box and into one of her shopping bags.

"I don't need it getting broken before you even get to the train," she said in the face of his mutinous outrage. "Now let's be on our way, it's almost sunset and I don't want us out after dusk," she said, and they were on their way before Ron could retort, while Mr. Weaselsy quickly paid for the wand.

Mrs. Weasley tried to herd them back to the Leakey Cauldron without stops, but she couldn't prevent even Percy from stopping once more at the Quidditch shop to ogle once more at the Firebolt on display. Harry and Hermione managed to convince her though, to stop at Toolings Charm Stop. Harry had mentioned the variety of items geared towards young witches and wizards unable to perform magic over the summer and with her birthday coming up, Hermione's parents had left her with some extra money to buy herself a present. Mrs. Weasley had given them all a strict ten-minute deadline and let them loose in the shop. There was a wide variety of charmed items and Harry very soon found that his money bag felt very heavy in his pocket.

Time flew quickly and the trio soon found themselves making their way towards the front of the shop where Madame Tooling was having an amicable though low volume discussion with the twins. Madame Tooling excused herself when they approached the counter, but not before George held out his hand to shake hers.

Hermione, out of all the cool items in the shop, had chosen a bookmark, which would make any magical book look like a mundane book to a muggle eye as well as keep her place. Ron and Hermione had a small argument about the items relative merits while Hermione paid for her item. "I couldn't read any of my textbooks while I was in France," Hermione said.

"But it's a mokeskin pouch," Ron said, pointing at the item. You could keep a dozen books in there.

"I could also go an entire year without pocket money, but I think I'd rather not," Hermione said, placing a few coins on the counter.

Harry wound up buying silencing insoles for his shoes, a nice compliment to his invisibility cloak.

"Are there any charms I can perform for you today?" Madame Tooling asked after they had checked out.

Just one, Harry thought, but that could wait till the next day when he could do magic himself.

"No thanks," Ron said, and they were soon being ushered out of the shop by the Weasleys elder.

Soon enough they were ensconced within the Leakey Cauldron, their purchases upstairs, and the whole lot of them surrounding a large table set for a family style dinner. Percy was expounding on how the school year would be different with him as Head Boy, something he had talked about quite a bit throughout the day. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were trying to ignore him, and the twins were making fun of Percy's new position. It almost felt at times, as though they had never left Hogwarts, as though they hadn't spent the past several, very eventful, weeks apart. At other points, Harry could almost feel the weight of everything that had happened, everything that hadn't been said, and the dark events of their world pressing down on him and separating him from his friends.

Harry almost wished that they were alone, and he could tell them everything. Yet from the letter, to the encounter with Greyback, to being thrown out of the Dursley's home, he didn't feel like he could really talk about any of it. Oh, he would tell them a bit about the two attacks, and about Snape technically being his watchdog. But he didn't really want to talk about how he hadn't even had his wand on him, or how Ms. Adler had died so horrifically. And the Dursleys; he hadn’t enjoyed it, but it almost seemed normal to him, how they treated him. And when he had been eleven, he had almost been a bit surprised at how upset his friends got when he talked about them, so he had stopped long ago. It was a subject no one ever really brought up, and even if it wasn't, getting kicked out was quite a bit different from doing all of the chores.

Snape and his mother especially though, he didn't want anyone, not even his friends, to know about. Yet at the same time, it made him feel like an impostor. He had identified as an orphan his entire life, and that was typically how others saw him; the boy whose parents had been ripped from him, forced to grow up without. Yet he did have a father, and now it was his own choice to do without. Not that Snape would take him in if he knew or treat him like a son if he did. Not that he'd want him to do either, because he didn't need either, he was doing just fine on his own.

"Harry dear," Mrs. Welsley's voice broke into his clouded thoughts, and Harry realized he had probably been staring off into space. "Did you want some more brussel sprouts?" she asked, and Harry realized he had probably been staring at the sprouts.

"Oh, um, yeah," Harry said, and Mrs. Weasels scooped some more of the green vegetables onto his plate, smiling warmly at him.

"So, Harry, Hermione, which of the elective courses did you choose this year?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"Oh, well I've got Care of Magical Creatures, and Divination," Harry said.

"Divination was never my favorite course," Percy said officiously. "I have never regretted taking Arithmancy, and I'd say there are a good dozen practical applications for Ancient Runes in your daily life."

"Don't be silly, Percy," Fred said. Percy bristled.

"If there's anyone who needs to see who's hiding around the next bend, it's Harry." George said, pantomiming some vicious beast ready to lunge.

"Divination doesn't work like that," Percy said pompously.

Fred opened his mouth to say something, but Mrs. Weasley beat him to it. "Hermione dear, what about you?"

"I chose all of them," Hermione said.

Ron laughed. "You can't take all of them, there's too much overlap."

Percy of course had his own two cents to put in. "While I admire your studious drive, Hermione, I'm afraid Ronald is right. There's just no way for you to take all of the classes. Don't worry though, Professor McGonagall will make sure you get the classes that will help you excel."

Hermione didn't seem to have an argument against that, but she didn't look at all like her hopes of taking all of her classes had been quashed. Harry figured if there was anyone who could manage all of them, it would be Hermione.

"So, Ron, how are the Cannons doing this season?" Mr. Weasley asked, and Ron started telling the table enthusiastically about the Cannon's latest almost win.

Quidditch talk took up the majority of the rest of the dinner conversation, and after tea and dessert, Mrs. Weasley was sending them all to their rooms.

"Now we're all getting up early tomorrow, so make sure you all go to bed soon, and make sure your trunks are packed tonight." She turned to the twins, "and no one is to step one foot out of the Cauldron tonight."

"Guess we'll wait till dawn," Fred said.

"Night Mum," George said as they hurried upstairs. The two had their heads together, conspiratorially before they had even reached the second landing.

Harry headed upstairs. He didn't have to wait long though, soon Ron was sticking his head into the room and letting himself in.

"So," Ron said. "Are you going to tell me now, or are we waiting for Hermione?"

"We'll wait for Hermione," Harry said. "Tell me about Egypt."

For all that Ron seemed eager to hear about Harry's adventurous summer, he was very ready to tell Harry about every detail of his trip to Egypt. Ron was telling Harry about George trying to scare Ginny, dressed up as a mummy, when Hermione knocked and entered the room. Harry could tell that something was bothering her, but figured that she, like Ron wanted to hear what had happened with Greyback.

He wound up giving them a somewhat watered-down version of events, including the fact that during the second encounter, it had been Snape who had saved Harry from being spirited away.

"Snape?" Ron asked aghast. "Why would he be watching you."

"Dumbledore's orders I think," Harry said. "It put a bit of a damper on things with him constantly watching me." Though oddly enough, he had felt somewhat safer knowing someone was guarding his back.

"Do you know why he's after you?" Hermione asked suddenly, her intense eyes focused on Harry.

"Not really, he kept talking about someone else, like he was going after me to get back at someone else," Harry said. And wasn't that all too familiar. Greyback was just a way creepier version of Snape.

"Could it be your dad?" Ron asked. "Maybe he captured Greyback during the war."

Hermione frowned.

"No," Harry said. "All the fugitives got captured after Voldemort fell."

"Um," Hermione said, she looked awkward, like she wasn't sure if she should be saying something.

"What is it?" Ron asked.

"Well," Hermione said. "I heard your parents arguing before I came in..."

But whatever she had overheard Harry would not find out that night. At that moment, there was a knock at the door and Mrs. Weasley poked her head into the room. She frowned when her eyes fell on Hermione, but it was quickly replaced by a smile that was graced upon them all.

"All right, you lot. Time for bed, we're up at six tomorrow and you all need your sleep. Ron did you finish packing?"

"No Mum," a slightly red-faced Ron said.

"Well you'd best get to it; I'll be by your room in ten minutes to say good night."

Ron got up and left the room, soon followed by Hermione.

"Good night, Harry," she said as she made her way out of the room, and to Mrs. Weaselsy, "Good night."

"Good night, Hermione dear," Mrs. Weaselsy said.

Then it was just Harry and his best friend's mum in the room.

"Well Harry," she started. "There won't be much time tomorrow so I'm making the rounds tonight. Have a good school year, and please stay safe. There may be a horrible person after you, but it's not your responsibility to catch him. Just please, whatever might happen, whatever you might hear, remember that there are adults there to keep you safe, and to capture Greyback."

"Well it's not like I'm going to go looking for him," Harry said. Really it was Snape he would expect to accuse him of wanting to run after Greyback, though he probably wouldn't look like he was concerned about Harry if he did.

"Harry dear," Mrs. Weasley said, and Harry suddenly found that she was standing much closer with a hand on each of his shoulders, and a serious expression on her face. "I will always be grateful, so grateful that you rescued my baby, but can you really say that you didn't go out looking for the Chamber, or that blasted stone for that matter. You could have died both times; you almost did." Harry almost felt like she was as concerned for him as she would be if she were talking to Ron, and Harry wondered if she would be having a similar talk with her other children. Yet Harry didn't think he had any placating answer to her concerns for a moment. He had researched the stone and he had tried to solve the mystery of the Heir of Slytherine. But going after Snape, or rather Quirel had never been his goal, nor had facing Tom Riddle and the Basilisk. He had been trying to get the stone and Ginny, not fight anyone. His pause had been too long though.

"Just promise me, please Harry. Promise me that you, Hermione, and my Ronnie aren't going to go on any more of these adventures."

And suddenly Harry understood.

"I promise Mrs. Weasley," he said, smiling in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. "It's not like anyone could get into Hogwarts anyway."

Mrs. Weasley rewarded him with a smile and a quick hug.

"All right now, you make sure to get plenty of rest, you all have a big day tomorrow."

She walked towards the door. "Good night Harry dear." And she was gone, to kiss her children goodnight.

Despite her urgings, Harry found that he didn't get much sleep that night.


IIIIIIIIII


Breakfast the next morning was a rushed affair. Ministry cars arrived not long after they woke up to escort them to Kings Cross, or rather, to make sure Harry arrived without being abducted. Harry wound up riding in a car with Mr. Weasley, Percy, and George. He was a bit disgruntled to have found himself separated from Ron and Hermione, just as George seemed upset to be separated from Fred.

The two cars arrived at Kings Cross in no time at all, the magical cars having slipped through lanes and even cross traffic. Mr. Weasley was constantly looking out the windows, and Harry wasn't sure if he was looking for a possible threat, or if he was just indulging his fascination with all things muggle.

Harry hadn't expected Aurors to be stationed in the muggle parts of Kings Cross, but there were; they just weren't dressed as Aurors. Men and women in business suits were positioned all over, and Harry could recognize the familiar stance in all of them that he had seen in the Aurors of Diagon Alley. Every one of the men had an Auror red tie, and all of the women wore an Auror red blouse. He could even recognize a couple who had held regular Alley posts. Harry wondered why they had bothered changing out of all of their robes, since all of them seemed to be unnoticeable to the muggles swarming about.

"The charms are only applied lightly," Mr. Weasley explained, when Harry asked. "Otherwise the muggles would walk right into them. It's not strong enough to stop them from noticing something so out of place as robes."

There were two Aurors standing guard outside the barrier to platform nine and three quarters who both nodded to Mr. Weasley when they walked up. Mr. Weasley and Percy went first, walking through the barrier casually, both having made the trip many times before.

"Wait just a moment dears," Mrs. Weasley said, as the twins made to go next. They looked at her expectantly, but she just stood there a moment, like she was waiting for something. Then she nodded her head and said. "All right, Harry, Ron, you go next." The two boys shared a confused look with the twins and walked towards the barrier. Harry half expected to crash into it, like he had the year prior. He closed his eyes, the moment before he reached the barrier, but found himself continuing on through. He opened his eyes again, and found himself on the other side, the Hogwarts Express shining in front of him.

The train was a very welcome sight, two years prior, it had taken him from the Dursleys and to a new world of magic. Now it would be taking him back to Hogwarts, and hopefully away from the madness of his summer vacation. That image and that hope was somewhat spoiled by the sight of a dozen red robed Aurors patrolling the platform.

The twins came through next, soon followed by Ginny and her mother. Soon all nine of them were gathered together off to the side of the platform. They were not late, so there was no rush to get on the train, and there were several hugs, admonishments, and pats on the back. Harry tensed when he found himself getting a hug from Mrs. Weasley, with a 'stay safe', whispered in his ear, a reminder of her plea for her children from the night before. He nodded his head, an affirmation of his promise.

"All right now," a new voice said, an Auror, walking up towards them. "We need to keep the platform clear, so students need to get on the train and parents need to move on." Harry noticed, for the first time, that the usually crowded platform wasn't. Mrs. Weasley looked like she was about to protest, but Mr. Weasley put his hand on her shoulder and she just scowled at the man.

"Have a good school year," Mr. Weasley said, by way of parting words. The seven children made their way to the train.

"Right, well, have a good trip," Percy said magnanimously. "I have to go conduct the prefects meeting." His chest was puffed out and his Head Boy badge stood out prominently.

"Those poor prefects," Fred said dramatically. Percy shook his head at him and walked towards the front of the train.

"Welcome back students," said an excited voice from behind Harry. "Have you found compartments yet?"

"Professor?" was Hermione's surprised reply, and sure enough, when Harry turned around, he saw the diminutive form of Professor Flitwick standing in the train corridor.

"We are conducting things a tad differently this year, but not to worry, you'll be getting to Hogwarts all the same. Now run along and find a compartment for your journey."

"It's good to see you Professor," Hermione said as they headed down the train corridor looking into train compartments to find empty ones.

Ron waited a moment until they were out of the Professor's earshot.

"'Good to see you', honestly, as if we wanted to ride with Professors the only time we can do magic without anyone looking over our shoulder," Ron said scathingly.

"Did you have any plans I should know about?" Hermione asked. "You realize they're here to keep us safe, not to spy on us."

"That depends," George said.

"Is Snape on the train," Fred asked.

"What if I need to curse Malfoy?" Ron asked.

"You shouldn't be cursing anybody," Hermione said in exasperation.

"It's probably better if you leave the mischief to us," George said, to which Ron scowled.

The twins found their friend Lee Jordan and parted from the group. Further down the corridor they passed Professor Sinistra, who directed them to an empty compartment further down the train car.

"Um, there's something we should talk about," Hermione said somewhat awkwardly once they were inside the compartment. "Maybe."

"Ginny, could you give us a bit," Ron said without missing a beat.

"And the annual mystery hunt begins," Ginny said grabbing her trunk, and clearly a bit put off. "Don't worry, I won't get underfoot."

Ron had the grace to look guilty.

Hermione didn't say anything, even after Ginny left, and Harry thought she looked very conflicted.

"Is this about what you heard last night?" Harry asked.

Hermione nodded.

"Oh, it's not like I've never heard my parents arguing before, just spill," Ron said

"All right, but Harry, just promise me you won't go looking for Greyback," Hermione said.

"Why does everyone think I'm going to go hunt down Greyback?" Harry asked.

"Just promise," Hermione said.

"I already did," Harry said, somewhat heatedly. "Ron's mum made me promise last night."

"She did?" Ron said, surprised.

"She wanted to make sure I didn't drag... that we wouldn't all go off looking for him like he's the Stone or the bloody Chamber of Secrets," Harry said.

"So they were arguing about whether or not to tell you not to look for Greyback?" Ron asked.

"No," Hermione said. "They were arguing about whether they should tell you why he's after you."

They both looked at her expectantly.

"You're sure you won't..." Hermione started.

"Hermione!" both boys exclaimed.

"He killed your godfather," Hermione said, now in a rush. "I didn't hear everything, but it has something to do with why he's after you."

Harry opened his mouth to say that he didn't have a godfather, but of course, he didn't. He didn't have a godfather like he didn't have parents. All lost the same way, it seemed.

"What?" Ron asked.

"That's all I heard, really, it was mostly just them going back and forth on it."

There was a silence for a moment, and then, "Harry?"

"I'm fine," Harry said. Both of his friends just stared at him. "Really, it's not like someone I knew just died. Just someone else I never got to know." He scratched his scalp and avoided looking at Hermione.

"I just figure it would help to know why the guy's after you," Ron said.

"Was it Mrs. Weasley who didn't want me to know?" Harry asked.

Hermione looked to Ron, as though asking his permission to rat out his mom. Ron just shrugged.

"It's okay," Harry said. Both of his friends looked at him in surprise, neither expecting him to be okay with any of it. Neither of them understood what Harry understood; that Mrs. Weasley was very afraid for her children's safety, and that Harry's search for justice would lead her youngest son right into a very real danger.

"If Mum should be worried about anyone looking for Greyback, it's me. Have you seen the bounties on all of their heads?" Ron said.

"Oh, honestly," Hermione said.

They talked about the matter a bit more until the train started moving, their journey to Hogwarts begun. It wasn't long before Ron brought out his chess set, and Harry had the relative silence for introspection.

Dudley didn't have a godfather, and unlike parents, Harry didn't have much of a concept of what a godfather did, or what role one would have played in his life. Would Harry have lived with the man? Would he have visited him at the Dursley's? Did it matter? Harry didn't know.

Chess lasted for a while, and then there was conversations about their respective summer vacation. Harry wound up giving a somewhat watered-down version of his own time that summer.

Hours passed, and so too did the snack laden trolley. Their train compartment now strewn with sweet wrappers, chocolate frog cards, books, and the occasional wandering chess piece was not how Harry would have liked to first be seen by his school nemesis, Draco Malfoy, but then again, Harry rather liked to avoid the pretentious, entitled boy as much as possible.

"Potter," Draco drawled, entering their compartment flanked by his hangers-on, Crabbe and Goyle "Been howling at the moon lately?

"Piss off Malfoy," Ron said

"I'm rather surprised you're willing to be in the same compartment as him, Weasel, but then again, your family has always associated with the lower sorts," he sneered, casting a deriding look at Hermione.

Harry's hands balled up into fists. "Well I'd rather associate with werewolves than the murderers your family hangs around with."

"Werewolves are murders; they're savages, just like you are now," Draco said to Harry, a sneer on his lips.

"What are you even on about?" Hermione said.

"Don't you know?" Draco said, as if he was delighted to find that he could spread whatever he was there to spread. "Potter's been turned into a werewolf, look, you can see it in his eyes. He'll be kicked out of the school for sure, and then it's only a matter of time before he's captured again by Greyback."

"Oh, push over, Harry wasn't captured by Greyback," Ron said. "He got away; you don't know anything about it. But I do. Greyback was You-Know-Who's enforcer, he kept the Death Eaters in line. I bet your father pissed himself whenever he was in the room."

Draco pulled his wand quickly and pointed it at Ron.

"You take that back," he said angrily.

Harry and Ron were on their feet instantly, pulling their wands out of their pockets, Ron's new wand sending out a couple of sparks.

"Put your wands away," Hermione said. She was looking out the door as though expecting a teacher to swoop in and give everyone detention.

But Draco suddenly found himself no longer flanked, Crabbe and Goyle had retreated into the train corridor, they looked uncertain and their eyes were focused on Harry. Did they actually think that he was a werewolf?

Draco, missing his backup, no longer looked like he wanted to be in the compartment either. Draco's shoulders arched back, and he seemed to be restraining himself from yelling at his two cohorts. Then he turned calmly and walked out of the compartment, as though he had merely become bored.

"I bet he'll eat you first Weasley," he said casually over his shoulder as he stalked down the corridor, Crabbe and Goyle following after him.

"Of all the stupid nonsense," Hermione said.

"Yeah," Ron said. "What's he on about? A werewolf. Right Harry?"

"No," Hermione said loudly. "You almost started a fight with teachers everywhere. I don't know about you, but I don't want to start out the school year in detention."

"He drew his wand first," Ron said heatedly.

"Did he actually convince Crabbe and Goyle that I'm a werewolf?" Harry asked, changing the subject.

"Those two idiots will believe anything," Ron said.

"Yeah, well it wasn't long ago that everyone thought I was the heir of Slytherin," Harry said.

"If anyone's silly enough to believe that, they'll all feel like fools when they realize that it's a full moon tonight," Hermione said.

"It is?" Ron said, sounding worried.

"There's a werewolf trying to kidnap Harry and you haven't kept up with the lunar cycle?" Hermione asked.

Ron gave Harry a look. "Didn't think of that," he said apologetically.

"Neither did I," Harry said. "Still, they'll believe just about anything if I'm not careful. Let's just hope no one tries to put Wolfsbane in my food."

"Still though, shouldn't we be worried about this full moon thing, what if Greyback comes after Harry," Ron said.

"He would be hard pressed to get on board in human form, I don't think he'll be able to get on as a werewolf," Hermione said.

Ron seemed somewhat mollified but still looked out the window for the moon. It had gotten dark, but they couldn't see the moon with the cloud cover.

It wasn't long later that the weather outside took a turn and rain started splattering on the windows. Hermione had started quizzing the two boys about their summer homework when the train started to stop somewhat quickly.

"Are we there already?" Harry asked.

"Hasn't been long enough, I don't think," Ron said with a bit of trepidation.

"It's still too early," Hermione said. They all started looking out the window, but with the light in the compartment against the glass and the dark outside, they could see little more than their own reflections. They definitely could not see the lights of Hogsmeade or its train station.

"I don't like this," Hermione said. "This could be an attack."

Ron pulled out his wand, soon followed by Harry and Hermione.

"You said Greyback couldn't really do anything with the train under the full moon," Ron said.

"Yes, but the others could," Hermione said, chewing on her bottom lip in worry.

Even Harry had to admit, he had started to think of only Greyback as being a direct threat to him.

The lights suddenly went out in their compartment, and no light came through the glass in the compartment door.

"Lumos," Hermione said, the soft glow of her wand casting the compartment in shadow and an eerie light.

They could hear worried voices from elsewhere in the train car, and a few doors opening and closing. A cold order was barked out and some of the noise stopped.

A deep chill leeched into Harry's bones and he started to shiver, a sharp pall suddenly came over the compartment.

"H-Harry mate, are you alright?" Ron asked sounding worried.

Hermione put a hand on his shoulder. "Harry?" She asked.

"Wait," Ron said, now sounding really scared.

"It's so cold," Harry said.

Hermione looked at him in confusion.

"Hermione," Ron started to say something, but he suddenly threw his arms around himself with a gasp. He was soon followed by Hermione who gave a sharp shiver, the light from her wand dimming until only a faint flicker remained.

The door slid open, and in came a cloaked and hooded figure. Harry felt a sense of dread from deep within, and from somewhere, Harry could hear screaming. Someone was in trouble, Harry thought, but he knew down to his soul that he was powerless to help. Ron pointed his wand at the figure, its face hidden, the only part visible its pale and desiccated hands. Harry knew that he should be doing the same, but he didn't have the strength to. Then it started to draw its breath; a dry death rattle. Ron's wand fell from his hand and both of his arms encircled himself. That was the last thing Harry was aware of what was happening in the train compartment. The yelling was getting louder, and he was so cold and scared. It was a woman, a woman was yelling, she was begging, Harry wished he could go to her, but he couldn't. There was a high-pitched laugh, but then it all changed, there was a brief silence and for the briefest of moments Harry felt warm and safe.

The whole world around him seemed to shift, the cold was back, so cold it made him ache. His feet were dangling, thrashing about, and the pain in his arm the only indication of how he was being held up. A red, angry face the only thing he could see, an enraged voice the only thing he could hear, he wanted to apologize but no words would come out, and then a wet snap and pain was the only thing he could feel.

There was a warring inside of him and then...shift.

He was running, he could never stop running. He turned his head to look over his shoulder. He could see the other boys chasing after him. Pierce had a wicked grin. He turned his head back around, but not in time to see the crack in the pavement. His foot met an immoveable object and suddenly he was flying through the air. He landed hard, half on the sidewalk and half on the street, his hands and knees scraped painfully, his glasses and one of his too large shoes flew free. He tried to put one foot underneath himself, to leap up and keep running, but a hand grabbed his shirt and yanked up and Harry briefly experienced a choking sensation, before another hand grabbed his shoulder and he was flipped over onto his back. The cold ground seemed to leech all of the warmth from him. He was out of breath, and he was tired and he wished that he were at the Dursley's in his cupboard. Someone punched him in the stomach, and he felt sick. He tried to break free but it was no use. He was miserable with pain and frustration and he just wanted to run away, but he couldn’t. He could hear Dudley wheezing as he approached, trying to catch up, Harry knew what would happen. A hand yanked up on his shirt and it ripped, he knew how that would be received by his Aunt. His throat became soar and his eyes stung, and he knew he was about to cry, but he couldn’t, not in front of them, not in front of Dudley. His cousin caught up and he couldn’t see well enough to say whether Dudley was angry to have needed to run, or happy to have caught Harry. Either way, it didn’t change much. The first tear fell.

Shift

Hands were wrapped around his throat, his vision was growing dim, even as his own hands scorched every part of Quirrel he touched. It wasn't enough, he was going to die, and Voldemort would get the stone. What would happen to Ron and Hermione if Voldemort crossed their path as he left?

But he would see his parents, he knew it, something he dreaded almost as much as he yearned for it. What would they think of him as their son? As everything went dark, there was a bright light that surrounded him and he felt serene...

Shift

Everything hurt, and he couldn't stop shivering; it was so cold.

Shift

He's alone, and he usually prefers to be alone, but now he would be happy for the Dursleys to be around. They were out for the evening, and he was alone, locked in his cupboard and he was so cold. The light from under the door had gone out a little after the wind had started, the house creaking and groaning in the storm. Each crack of thunder sent a thrill of fright through him. He wished he had a mother, like Dudley did, who would hold him during the storm, but he knew he could never have that. He was alone, he would always be alone.

Shift

He tried to wrap his sheet around himself tighter, a futile attempt to keep the cold out. He had been awake for what seemed like hours. He couldn't sleep when it was this cold.

Shift

Surely he was dying, how could he not be when he felt as sick as he did. He lay on the cold kitchen floor as his uncle came into the kitchen and took one look at the mess on the floor before turning his attention to Harry, his face quickly reddening, and angry words spewing forth. The first blow falls and he really truly wishes that...

Shift

They were laughing, everyone was laughing, and Harry didn't understand. It wasn't even funny. There was probably something he didn't understand, something about him. He knew he was different now, but he still didn't understand why it was funny. It never made him laugh, whatever it was. He wanted to do something, or say something so that they would stop, but he knew that it would only make things worse. He stayed silent and hated himself for it. He picked himself up off of the floor, and walked away, fighting the same tears that hadn't fallen for almost a year.

Shift

It echoed on and on in his head. He couldn't get it out. He had had to get out. Away from where everyone could see him. They would see, they would see he was such a freak. They would know. They could see. They could tell.

He kept running. He didn't know where, he didn't care. He had just had to get out. Even though he couldn't get it out of his head. The cold rain pelted down as he ran and he wished it could wash him away.

Shift

He couldn't breathe, his already panicked mind verging on hysterics. It was all his own fault. He was going to die and he could have stopped everything, if he hadn't been so scared. He wished he could go back in time, and that this day would never come. He wished someone would save him, but knew that no one would, since he hadn't even tried to save himself.

Shift

The cold left him and he felt warm. He was safe. He drifted off into unconsciousness.
To be continued...
End Notes:
I really hope you liked this chapter, and that you'll tune in next time for the next chapter.


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