Harry Potter and Mystery's Daughter

Chapter 1: Summer Again

"You have been taught how to duel, Harry Potter?...Bow to death, Harry...And now- we duel...Avada Kedavra!"

Harry saw the rushing green light with widening eyes and he furiously searched for his wand. The light seemed to slow as it was reaching him and he could feel his hair blowing back. His scar burst with new pain and he felt as if he was being stripped away. His yells and screams filled his ears and suddenly all he saw was black.

Harry blinked. The darkness seemed to give way to light slightly as his eyes adjusted to his room. Just a dream...it's all just a dream. Heavy gasps accompanied the beads of sweat slowly sliding down his face. Harry reached for his glasses with shaking hands and noted the time on the clock. 12:30. He was fifteen. Already his birthday had started out in fear and uneasiness. Harry wiped the sweat off his face and pushed back his hair, his fingers lingering on his scar. His scar was buzzing slightly but Harry was far too used to it now to care. He was now kneading his forehead in frustration. Why was his mind constantly plagued by these dreams...was he ever going to get a decent night of sleep? Ever since returning from Hogwarts, Harry had retreated into himself, continually thinking about the third task and Voldemort's return. His silent depression had even been noticed by the Dursley's. Uncle Vernon had barked at him to eat the food that he picked at, while Aunt Petunia shrieked at him to hurry up with his chores. Dudley now took pleasure in poking Harry while he sat in reverie. Now, feeling hungry for once, he went downstairs and heard Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia discussing him in the living room. Harry knelt in the shadows and listened to their conversation.

"Vernon, he's pulling into himself. He doesn't even appreciate the effort I put into those meals!"

"I know Petunia, but what can I say for the boy? He's deranged and who knows what's running through his mind after four years in that...school."

Harry could hear the distaste in his Uncle's voice.

"Should we talk to him?"

"What good would that do? He'd probably use his abnormality and turn us into frog spawn or whatnot".

"Well, I can't stand another month with the boy. His silence is starting to unnerve my poor Duddykins".

"Petunia! I refuse to care about that boy! He doesn't deserve any of our concern! He's caused us too much trouble already".

Not caring to hear anymore, Harry crept into the kitchen and took the bread out of the fridge. As he popped it into the toaster, his mind wandered, yet again, to Cedric. Cedric. His very name had caused Harry more anguish and pain this summer than anything else.

"Both of us...We'll take it at the same time".

I should have just invited him to be murdered, Harry thought bitterly.

"Lets both take it Cedric! Lets both go to a graveyard when you can get killed off for being a spare!" Harry spat the words out loud, making a cruel face and mimicking a high voice. How could he have been stupid? Stupid enough for ignoring all the signs, for ignoring all the concern Sirius and Dumbledore had been giving? Not to see that the last task was a trap. Cedric had everything going for him. He could have been Head Boy for all Harry knew, he had Cho, he was good at Quidditch, he had those handsome looks to grow into. But Harry took that all away by being noble and fair.

A Gryffindor through and through, Harry thought cynically. All Cedric's dreams and hopes had been destroyed. Harry could still see Cedric's body, lying on the ground while Voldemort was regenerated. Voldemort regenerated. Harry gave a shudder and his mind involuntarily took him back to when the smoke had billowed from the cauldron, shutting out the world before Voldemort stepped into it once again. Speaking of smoke...Harry saw the black clouds issuing from the toaster a split second before the kitchen door slammed open and Uncle Vernon had him by the cuff of his shirt. Harry could see Aunt Petunia wafting the smoke away.

"What were you thinking boy!" Uncle Vernon was bellowing at the top of his lungs, spit flying everywhere.

"I was thinking about making toast", Harry said in a sullen voice. He didn't even bother to enjoy the way Uncle Vernon's face changed to a fire engine red.

"How dare you talk to me with such disrespect! How dare you have the nerve!?" Uncle Vernon was livid but once again, Harry didn't care. He had bigger things on him mind than worrying about the Dursleys.

"I guess it comes with being an incurably criminal boy. Now if you don't mind, I would like to go back up to my room. But I can't do that if you're hanging onto my shirt".

Harry pried Uncle Vernon's hand off his shirt and walked out of the room with Uncle Vernon standing behind him, mouth hanging open. Harry walked up to his room and flopped onto his bed, staring at the ceiling.

Before I was so rudely interrupted...Oh yes, I was once again debating the reason why I allowed Cedric to die.

However, before Harry could continue his musings, Hedwig swooped down onto his stomach. Harry absentmindedly stroked her head and until he noticed she had a letter on her foot. Harry reached for it and recognized Ron's handwriting with a flash of irritation. Harry hadn't been reading Ron or Hermione's letters since he got back. Harry just wanted to be left alone...he couldn't stand the way his friends looked at him (stared at him was more like it). Every time they glanced at him, Harry felt a surge of shame. He didn't want to be treated so delicately and he didn't want to read his friend's letters of concern of worry. He had sent the whole lot of letters back to their author's and after awhile starting burning them in the fireplace downstairs to give Hedwig and Pig a break. However Harry noticed a new message on the seal of the envelope.

Harry, open this one or I swear the next will be a Howler. And the muggles wouldn't appreciate it would they?

Harry noted this with a feeling of amusement and anger in the same. He ripped open the letter, and suddenly felt excited to hear from his best friend.

Dear Harry,

Happy Birthday!

Hey, how are you? I know probably not well, but that's to be expected. Anyways I'm not going to dwell on that because I'm guessing that's the reason you haven't been reading my letters. I've been confined to the house this summer because Mum's positively mad about this whole situation. Although I can't really blame her. You haven't been in the loop here, but You-know-who has already started the war . I know you don't want to hear this because you're still getting over the third task, but you need to know. We're coming to get you on the 2^nd at 3:00. I don't care if you don't want to come...Bill's coming with us so he can magik everything into the car (that's right, no more blowing up fireplaces!). Unfortunately, you need to know what's happening before you go back to Hogwarts.

Now, onto bigger and better things. Are there any? Oh right...(Ginny's reminding me) Percy and Penelope moved in together and we suspect that Percy is going to pop the question any day now. But he can't do it yet because he's under so much stress since he found out Crouch died. He refuses to acknowledge the fact that you-know-who's back and he's siding with Fudge. Mum's really upset with him but he won't listen. Hermione's visiting Viktor Krum in Bulgaria for two weeks. What can they possibly be doing there? Two weeks! Her parents went but bully that. All Vicky has to do is pull her on his broomstick and fly her off somewhere and...well you get the picture. Anyways, I have to go...Fred and George are playing Quidditch in the paddock and it's like the first time in weeks. Mum's so scared that death eaters are going to pop out and kill us all while we're throwing apples to one another. I'm training to be keeper! Don't tell Fred and George because they'll just make things harder. See you in two days!

-Ron

P.S. You don't have to send back a reply...but if I see Pig turn up with this letter, I'll come and kill you.

Harry almost laughed out loud with relief. I've been such a prat, he thought with amazement. He didn't give Ron nearly enough credit. He read Ron's letter once more and thought it would be nice to go back to the wizarding world. But as he realized this, he frowned. Going back would mean facing everything. The war. Voldemort. Cedric. Harry's throat went dry at the idea of going back to the Burrow. Where Mrs. Weasley would croon over him. Where Mr. Weasley would come in late everyday, distressed at the Ministry's havoc. Where constant tension would reign in the household over Percy. All because of him. No, Harry thought vehemently. No. He had to write to Sirius. If Sirius came in time, Harry could go with him and escape a month at the Weasley's. And Dumbledore would understand...wouldn't he? Harry remembered when Sirius used a wizarding fire to talk to him before the first task. Was there some way he could do the same? As Harry sat pondering this, he realized that a brown owl had swept into the room and sat perched near Hedwig's cage. Harry hurried over and took the letter from the owl. With a rush of excitement, Harry tore open the letter as he saw Sirius's scrawl on the front.

Dear Harry,

First off, Happy Birthday! Second, how are you? I know I haven't been in contact since I left, but Dumbledore's orders. Anyways, I think I need to come and see you. So does Remus. We've been very worried about you, as much as you hate to know that. I've talked to Dumbledore and he agrees that it's time you left the Dursley's for the summer. I know you probably are ready to go and if you aren't, I can understand you're reluctance. However, you cannot sit in the dark while your true world is starting to fall apart--something which in no way is your fault. Have your things ready and Remus will come for you at noon on the 1^st. I think that the muggles seeing a convict would raise too many issues...however, I will be ready to Apparate if the situation calls for it. Sorry this letter is so abrupt.

See you soon,

Sirius

Harry let out a deep breath he didn't know he had been holding. He would get to see his godfather and his old professor in a day. Thinking hard, he made a decision to write back to Ron. He hastily found some parchment and a quill and sat down at his desk.

Dear Ron,

Don't bother coming on the 2^nd. I am staying with Sirius. He is coming for me tomorrow. I appreciate the invitation but I don't' think I can come back that quickly. Will see you on the Hogwarts Express.

-Harry

P.S. I am doing fine

P.P.S. What, no presents?? Just kidding

Harry attached the letter to Hedwig and watched her fly in the distance. His stomach gave a twinge of guilt. Why should he feel so apprehensive about going to stay with the Weasleys? His vulnerability to Voldemort had always been present, therefore always putting them in danger but- Ah Harry, but you hadn't restored the Dark Lord to his former and full strength then did you?. A nasty little voice sprang up in his head, much like the one in second year. Harry went back to lie down in his bed, uneasily falling asleep. As he started drifting off, he was brought back by a very unpleasant thought. Ron and Sirius had both said that the war had already started. Harry assumed that meant attacks, deaths, torture. Oh god, what have I done...Harry's mind flashed over all his muggle born friends, and then those from wizarding families. Were any of them, as of this moment, being tortured? Being killed? Harry had no idea what to do or think and realized the helplessness was eating him from inside. Why me? Why do I have to live the life of an orphan, carry the world's expectations on my shoulders. Why do I have to have family that lives in shadows and fear of being discovered. Why, at fifteen have I survived being close to death four times? Why is it that my very existence is either being praised or plotted against? A single tear ran its course down Harry's cheek. No one understood. Not even Sirius or Dumbledore could perceive how much unhappiness had entered Harry's life. More tears came but Harry did nothing to stop them. His body was shaking violently with the force of his sobs. I can't wake the Dursley's, Harry thought bitterly. I must learn to do what other people want...I must be what people want me to be. The anger, frustration, sorrow, and the pure injustice of it all made Harry want to scream louder than anything. But all he could do was shove his face into his thin pillow and wait the surging emotions to pass. As usual.