Harry Potter fond himself staring down the barrel of an old “six-shooter” revolver. The dark cavity in the long cylinder seemed to emulate the way his life had been, the way it had felt to him growing up. Dark and empty. It also seemed to copy the deep shadows that danced on the walls at night in that cabinet under the stairs which he had found as his home for eleven years.
Harry would have laughed had his life not been about to end. The two revelations he had at that moment were odd. The first was the fact that, through it all, he had thought of that dark, dank closet under the stairs as his home. Every time Dudley’s large mass would find its way down the stairs, he would see the shadows before him contort into new images, images of his parents, his friends, all before he knew about any of them.
Now Harry didn’t much believe in divination, or at least the crap Trelawney passed as divination, but he knew what he saw and felt all those years ago.
The second thought Harry had was, “it sure is odd how everything smart you ever had to say only comes to your mind right before you die.”
And as those words played themselves in his eyes, he muttered what he believed to be his last words, and if Ron could have been there, he would have laughed his head off.
“Fucking Crazy Muggles.” And with that the revolver went off in an explosive blast and Harry’s head whipped back from the blast. As his body fell, there was a faint golden glow from his scar which burst out and lit up the area, then the room, and finally the house until the light was pouring from every opening in the house until it was a beacon that people who saw it thought could be seen from space.
The light was accompanied by a deafening silence that seemed to make it so that anyone that actually tried to talk, their voice seemed to just stop.
The golden light surrounded Privet Drive for quite some time, about five minutes, and as the light winked out of existence, Harry Potter was on the ground, blood pouring out of his forehead. Harry Potter, by all appearances was dead, murdered by his uncle.
However, there were a few discrepancies in this fact. Had anyone paid any attention, they would have found that the blood was coming from not a bullet wound, but from a jagged scar on his forehead.
For had anyone paid any attention and been watching in the light, they would have found that the bullet had halted as the golden light came out from the scar.
And had anyone been paying attention, they would have found the simple fact that, floating in the blood that poured from his forehead was the small metal object looking as though it had been smashed by a sledgehammer.
Vernon Dursley dusted his hands quickly and then observed the blood beginning to seep into his expensive carpet, he called out to Harry from upstairs to clean it up. After several calls, he looked to the boy, remembering what he had just done and sighed. And as he turned, he began to wonder what he was going to do.
Miles and miles away, Albus Dumbledore set down his half moon spectacles and sighed. He rubbed his eyes, and tried to block the looks of pure elation and unknowing from his face as the staff sat or stood watching him.
“It had begun.”
Many more miles away from that location, Lord Voldemort fell to his knees, his wand clattering to the ground cutting off the Cruciatus link he had used upon the innocent muggle. Even from there, the pure gold glow from Privet Drive in Surrey was visible. He looked in pure agony, something that Wormtail himself had never seen his master.
Doubt and fear crossed his eyes as he saw his master for the first time truly seem human. His body began to shake and his eyes seemed to flash and suddenly his body seemed to sent out a bright red glow. And as the sky became assaulted with the shining Gryffindor colors, Peter Pettigrew, AKA Wormtail, felt something that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Regret. He knew no real Gryffindor would have done what he did all those years ago. He vowed to make it right.
Sirius lack approached number 4 Privet Drive calmly, but nervously adjusting the jacket to the suit he wore. He sighed as he basked in the remaining sunlight, a thing he had missed for all of those years in Azkaban. With those thoughts he smiled as he walked to the door to escort his godson from his muggle home to his personal trial. They had not caught the traitor called Peter Pettigrew, but instead found a way around it. Harry.
You see, it seemed that there was a new law passed just recently, and the use of a penseive and therefore someone’s memories as key witnesses is now allowed in Wizard Court. Because of this, enough memories were taken from Harry at the end of the Third Task when he was asleep to clear Sirius’ name and the trial was just a formality.
Sirius approached the Dursley household and knocked on the door. The door opened on the bright morning and he found the large whale of a man Vernon answering the door. Sirius did his best to smile and sound polite despite knowing how this man had treated his Harry.
“Vernon Dursley, I presume.”
“Yes. How may I help you?”
“I have come for Harry Potter.” Slam. The door closed abruptly in Sirius’ face. His icy blue eyes turned cold and he muttered “to hell with muggles.” and with that the door exploded open.
“Where is he?” Sirius’ angry voice asked. He was beyond polite, and was downright frightening, which might have been a factor in why the large blob with blonde hair used its chubby hands to cover its obese backside.
Sirius’ eyes scanned the deep earth-toned room. Thr room was full of deep browns and tans from all of the new wood furnishings, and was well decorated. However, one thing stood out. On the floor in front of the stairs lay a bright purple bathroom rug. Sirius knew that they wouldn’t have it here unless for a good reason, and he went over to it. Fear flashed Vernon’s eyes as Sirius neared it, and this alarmed Sirius. Suddenly he smelled something. He knew the smell very well and it bother him. He smelled blood. He rushed past the mat, but slipped on it to reveal a patch of blood.
Sirius ran to the door to the cupboard that was under the stairs of the house and grabbed the lock. he was in such a rage that he ripped the door full off the hinges and found a sight that almost made him cry. Harry Potter, savior to the Wizarding world, and the greatest person he himself had ever met, lay dead in a pool of his own blood.
Sirius turned, thoughts rushing through his mind as he fingered his wand and though of whether they would put him on level two or three of Azkaban after he killed Vernon. However, he stopped when he heard something.
“Sirius…Sirius, wha- what are you doing here. You’ll be caught and kissed.” Harry’s labored breathing cut off as was everything else he would have said. Dudley would have laughed at the thought of a kiss being a bad thing, but he didn’t dare with the hateful look in the man’s eyes before him.
With that Sirius turned back to the cupboard and lifted Harry up slowly and carried him out of the house, not giving a back glance as he rushed to the outside of the apparation wards to get Harry to Hogwarts.
After a little while in the Hospital Wing, Harry awoke to immediately be brought to the Headmaster’s office.
“Harry, what happened last night was not a good thing. Your uncle attempted to murder you. I have no idea what happened, but all I know is that it was powerful ancient magic, and it was so powerful that Voldemort was put in great pain, and somehow the link your scar bore to him has been cut off.”
“Okay…” Harry was confused by what was the importance of this except that now he could not tell where Voldemort was going to attack, which was bad. However, the Headmaster had other things to say.
“Also, the light side has found some odd information. It seems, that, just as you gained some of Voldemort when he tried to kill you, when he took some of your blood, he also took some of you.”
“Yeah, my mother’s protection on me.”
“Harry, not just that. It seems because of your blood, and coupled with whatever ancient magic happened last night, he seems to have gotten, well, a conscience.”
Harry looked shocked. That was strange. Harry got Parseltongue and the possibility to be put in Slytherin, while Voldemort got his mother’s protection and a conscience. Seemed fair enough, he figured.
“But anyways Harry, I do not believe it is safe for you here, and I apologize for not moving you sooner. I’m sorry, but the Burrow is not a possibility, it may put other Wizarding families in danger.
There are magical ways of tracking people when they are in the magical world, and if you stay out of it, then people will not be able to find you if they wish to harm you.” Harry nodded. It made sense to him.
“So because of this, you will be staying with Hermione’ family. They have agreed to take care of you for the rest of the holidays, and longer if you feel you’d like to stay or longer. I will personally escort you there in about 5 minutes. I do suggest you gather your things from the Hospital Wing.”
Harry was in such a state of shock about staying with Hermione that he was there before he realized. Hid hand subconsciously rubbed the spot were she had kissed him at the end of that school year.
As Harry went out of the office and came into the Hospital Wing, he passed by a mirror. He stopped and walked back and looked at himself again. He remembered himself well from last year, and the person he was now looking at looked like him, but oddly like someone else.
His hair lay flat, pressed against the bottom of his neck. Harry had never realized how long his hair was because he always had the “struck-by-lightning” look when it came to hair.
His eyes shown brightly with a golden color, and as Harry looked closer, he saw something he was sure hadn’t been there before. The border to the coloring of his eyes, between the emerald irises and the whites of the cornea, there was a distinct golden ring. Suddenly Harry realized something. He had no glasses on. He wondered about this as he sat looking calmly at himself.
Harry straightened up and began to walk back to the hospital wing. As he got there, he found that Dumbledore was sitting in a chair awaiting him.
“You seemed to be noticing some changes, so I decided to leave you. Your questions will be answered, or will simply become clear to you. right now, however, we must go.” And with that said Harry reached for his trunk and Hedwig’s empty cage with one hand, and then for the book on the desk with the other, and with the tugging near his navel, he was gone in a spin of coloring.
As he stepped foot into Hermione’s house, she rushed him and hugged him. He smiled brightly to her as she latched a hold of him, her smile lighting the room. As he stepped back from their oddly long hug, he looked at her. Her hair was laying flat on her head, and her body was free of the robes they had to wear all school year. he looked her up and down and saw that indeed Hermione had changed from the little girl in their first year.
The low-rise jeans she wore clung to hips he was never aware she had, and the curves they showed off made his mind began to think about his best friend in a way he wasn’t sure he liked, but was sure he didn’t hate. One thing was sure. This would be an interesting summer.
Harry whistled long and slow as he looked at her from her sparkling cinnamon-colored eyes, to her tight white T-shirt to those oh-so-tight jeans, and back up again, smirking at her as she looked at him look at her.
“Damn ‘Mione. Lookin’ good.” And with that he walked slowly by her into the foyer of the house. Hermione looked back at him in shock, and Harry was wondering about this new attitude of confidence he had never had.
‘You’ve always had it, just been too afraid to show it. You wanted people to think of you how they always had, as a hero, instead of just another kid, even if you were doing it without knowing’ a voice told him, which he figured was his conscience.
Hermione went and stood by Harry awaiting her parents arrival from the second floor of the three-story house. As she looked to him, Hermione saw that she was looking up to him substantially. She realized that although this wasn’t too big of a thing, considering she was about 5’ 2”, but by the looks of it, he was bordering 5’ 8”, and she was sure when he had gotten off the train he was about 5’ 5” at most.
Harry himself had caught this and figured that it was mostly because of the feelings from last year and the mental weight on his shoulders, he had taken physical weight on his shoulders and had been slumping down all that time.
As Mr. and Mrs. Granger descended the stairs, Hermione watched Harry. He was smiling and immediately went over to meet them. Sure Harry was a nice boy and all, but he had never been this forward, and had never seemed so, un-Harry. she liked it. Yes, she decided, she liked it very much.
“So you two are the wonderful people responsible for creating this beautiful girl I have had the pleasure of knowing.” Hermione blushed deeply and she caught her mother giving her a look. “Nice to meet you, Harry James Potter’s the name.” Harry stuck out his hand to Mr. Granger.
“Nice to meet you as well Harry. Name’s Jack Granger.”
“Nice to meet you Mr. Granger, or is it Doctor-” Harry was cut off.
“Just call me Jack.”
“And I am Elizabeth Granger. You can call me Liz, or Liza, or whatever you want dear. We’ll show you your room now.”
Harry followed them up the stairs, lifting his truck easily. Hermione looked at him in confusion as she had just seconds ago tried to drag it to the stairs and had almost pulled out her arm.
As they neared the top of the stairs, there was the sound of feet and suddenly a girl about 16 stood before Harry, flanked by a few other girls. The one in the front, the first girl Harry saw, had curly brown hair and Harry saw some distinct features he recognized. Then the girl spoke.
“Daphne Marie Granger. And who are you?” She asked, her friends giggling lightly.
“I’m Harry Potter. Hermione never told me about you.”
“I figured as much. Well, I am her sister. She doesn’t talk about me much because we don’t have too much in common. Well, it’ll be nice seein’ you while you’re here, and I hope we get to hang out some if my little baby sister doesn’t hog all the fun.” The girl walked by as she said the last sentence, dragging her finger across Harry’s chest and lightly growling seductively, and then winking to Hermione as she passed her, her friends behind her still giggling.
“This is gonna be a looooong summer,” both Hermione and Harry said together as they entered their rooms, which were right across from each other, closed the doors together and sank to their beds to rest, both thinking of the other as they drifted off to sleep.