|Harry Potter: Face–to–Face With an Adult's Destiny
Author: Batsutousai PM
DISCONTINUED! Fifth year is over, and Sirius is gone. Now Harry knows his destiny to kill, or be killed. How can Harry cope?Rated: Fiction T - English - Angst - Harry P. & Remus L. - Chapters: 5 - Words: 14,629 - Reviews: 53 - Favs: 36 - Follows: 40 - Updated: 08-28-04 - Published: 05-11-04 - Status: Complete - id: 1857431
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Title: Harry Potter: Face-to-Face With an Adult's Destiny
Chapter Title: "Tea with Mrs. Figg"
Author: Hitokiri Batsutousai
Rating: PG-13 - R(It's still undecided, actually. This chappie's about PG, but, knowing me, it'll hit R by the fourth chappie, so I'm upping the rating now)
Pairings: Wait and see. There is a slash/yaoi warning on this, though
Summary: Fifth year is over, and Sirius is gone. Now Harry knows his destiny; to kill, or be killed. How can Harry cope?
It was so weird, having the Dursleys treat him so well. They'd even gone out and bought him a few sets of new clothing(much to Dudley's shock), a bribe to keep them on Harry's, and, in turn, "Mad-Eye" Moody's, good side. He'd been allowed to have his school stuff in his room again and was allowed to use Hedwig to send letters, even pushed to do so. After the first time Dudley had attempted to use Harry as a punching bag and been yelled at for it by his father, the fat boy had left the young wizard alone. All in all, it was turning out to be a very peaceful and different sort of summer for Harry Potter.
Oh, how Harry longed for the summers of abuse and worry long gone by. He almost begged for another dementor attack, or for Voldemort to come knocking. Even his homework hadn't lasted long enough to get him through the holiday and was already packed away in his trunk, long done. The boy would do anything to get him mind off the man who had died at the end of the past school year.
Sirius Black, Harry's godfather, was never to walk the earth again, and it bit at Harry again and again. It was all Bellatrix's fault, and she walked free. Yet, Harry couldn't help but blame himself, and, when he let himself disrespect the old wizard, Dumbledore. There was a lingering hate and anger boiling inside him, and it gave him an almost evil aura, which kept most people away from him.
Harry had come to learn to let the cool Slytherin within himself take over him, pushing the heartbroken Gryffindor to the back, letting it cry in peace, unseen. In Harry's mind, he'd have to kill to keep himself alive in the end anyway, might as well get used to death, since it seemed to follow him everywhere. His parents, Cedric, Sirius, all dead. All because of him. He was a murderer, no matter what others thought or said. He should have been put in Slytherin.
The black-haired boy walked down Privet Drive silently. His black clothing, accompanied by his cold aura, seemed to suck up all happiness and light about him, like the dementors of his world. This boy didn't smile anymore, nope, not him. Once, long ago, he'd smiled when he through that the people who took care of him weren't looking at him. It appeared that the school he was rumored to go to(St. Brutus' Secure Center for Incurable Criminal Boys) had finally made it's mark on him. His Aunt Marge would be pleased.
But, back to the boy's looks. His emerald green eyes appeared as cold as an ancient stone sunk deep into the earth of his face. His once handsome face, like that of his father, James Potter, had become gaunt and haunted, rather more like that of Sirius Black, and was framed by hair like his godfather's, shoulder-length and sorely in need of a trim and a brush. His clothing hung on him much better than it once had, but it still seemed to dwarf him. A black short-sleeved tee with a silver skull shimmering across the front hung from slumped shoulders. Baggy jeans with rips that had been purposely made were held to slim hips with a red belt. Black wrist cuffs adorned his slim wrists.
His aunt and uncle hadn't been pleased with this choice of clothing or new trashy look, but Harry had threatened them with Moody's promise. They'd bought him the clothing, as well as other shirts and black jeans like it. He wondered sometimes what his two best friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, would see if they saw him now. He figured his parents and Sirius would be upset, but he was so depressed, that he didn't really care.
"Harry?" An old woman with semi-wild gray hair, Arabella Figg, called out to the somber boy from her front porch as he walked by her house. She'd often seen him out, but hadn't really tried to talk to him. But, he just looked so much like he needed someone to talk to who knew what had happened, which she'd heard from Dumbledore.
Harry glanced up at her hollowly. "Oh. Hullo, Mrs. Figg."
"You don't look too well, Harry. Why don't you come in for a spot of tea, hum?" Mrs. Figg offered.
Harry was tempted to turn her down, but the reminder than she, too, had constant contact with the Order of the Phoenix and could easily inform Remus Lupin, the Weasleys, or another caring Order member of his current state, gave him pause. The last thing he wanted was to be surrounded by the whole Order as they worried over him. He'd rather share a few moments of the old woman's company than have to put up with a dozen or more people all at once. He offered the Squib a feeble smile. "I would love to, Mrs. Figg. Thank you."
"Wonderful! I've so missed having a good tea partner!" Mrs. Figg stood and held the door open for Harry. "Come into the kitchen while I heat up some water, dear. There are some fresh cookies in that jar over there. Why don't you pull out a plate, you know where they are, and put some on it. There you are. Have one and sit down, dear. That's my boy." She spoke as she worked, watching Harry closely, trying to figure out what was wrong without asking him.
Harry settled at the table after putting the cookie jar back and took a cookie to nibble at. Mrs. Figg was a wonderful cook, especially when it came to cookies and cakes. He watched her work, humming, from behind his curtain of hair.
Once both were seated with large mugs of warm tea before them, Mrs. Figg started talking, picking up a cookie and watching Harry over it. "Well then, Harry. You seem so sad lately. Have those Muggles been getting you down again?"
"No..." Harry sighed and took a sip of his tea, which near burnt his tongue, but he didn't seem to notice. "They've been downright civil to me so far. Mad-Eye really got to them, I think."
"I see. Then you're thinking about Black instead?" It was obvious that she was well enough informed to Harry, who hadn't been so sure at first.
Harry stared down at his tea for a long moment. Sirius' face as he fell through the veil, into the world of death beyond, flashed before his eyes. "I couldn't do anything. He just...fell.... It wasn't fair...." He whispered. He had long gotten past the anger at the world that had once raged within him when Sirius was mentioned. The anger was gone, but not the pain.
"You shouldn't blame yourself, Harry. There was nothing you could have done." Soulful old eyes watched the quiet boy sadly. She knew what it was like to, unexpectedly, lose someone to the clutches of the Dark Lord, as it was through He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named orders that she'd lost her husband, who had worked for the Order.
"There had to have been something. Anything. I didn't even get the chance to say good-bye...." Harry's voice cracked, as if he were crying, or about to, but his emerald eyes, so like his mother's, remained cold and unfeeling in a face that was a mixture of James and Sirius. It was oddly chilling to see the three dead souls looking out from the lonely young wizard's haunted face. Mrs. Figg couldn't help but shiver at the thought.
"Harry, not even Dumbledore was able to do anything," she tried.
Harry stared at his hands, which were sitting before his cup, biting back a rude comment about the headmaster. An uncomfortable silence fell about them. Harry broke it with a muttered, "I should go, before they wonder where I've gone."
"Alright then." Mrs. Figg smiled in an attempt to bring an end to the gloomy feeling in the air. "Drop by anytime!"
"Of course...." Harry stood and Mrs. Figg followed suit. "I'll show myself out," he added hastily. Then he turned and left the house, letting the front door close lightly behind him.
Mrs. Figg finished getting up to deal with the cups. Harry had drunken little, if any, of his. Mrs. Figg bit her lip, watching the boy walk further down the street, away from his aunt and uncle's house. She'd have to report Harry's state to Dumbledore. The boy was getting worse.
A/N: Sorry it's so short. I promise that chappie 2 will be much longer!! [winks] So, stay tuned!
Chapter two: Return to the Wizard World