Author: SaoirseAngel PM
Harry is sick and tired of always being kept in the dark, of being lied to, and of being protected. He's had enough and he's going to take control of his life. Takes place at the summer before sixth year. HHR. Slight HBP spoilers. Some Dumbledore bashing.Rated: Fiction T - English - Family/Romance - Harry P. & Hermione G. - Chapters: 37 - Words: 347,588 - Reviews: 2,096 - Favs: 2,175 - Follows: 2,292 - Updated: 01-05-13 - Published: 05-06-06 - id: 2926255
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Disclaimer: I own nothing, Harry Potter and all his friends belong the J.K Rowling.
A/N: Just so all you new readers know the first few chapters of this story are a kind of…well bad. I know that it's chock full of spelling errors and inconsistencies that I have every intention of going back and fixing when I finally finish this. I know a lot of things aren't explained that well and there are unnecessary details, I also know that there are a lot of cliches. There are also things in here that are purely my own opinion. This is my first fanfiction and it shows it. Fortunately I realized this and after the first nine or so chapters it gets better. Hopefully you'll be able to slog through it and get to become a loyal reader. Thank you for bothering with reading this and enjoy the story!
Harry wiped the sweat from his brow with the hem of his sleeve and let out a sneeze. If the stifling heat didn't kill him the dust would. He was starting to feel like dust was actually beginning to coat his lungs, he was sure that in a few minutes he would be coughing up mud.
He'd been stuck cleaning the attic for the past three days because, apparently Dudley needs a new room for all his weight lifting equipment. He was told that his great load of a cousin needed to stay 'strong and in shape'to keep his Junior Weight Champion title. More than likely Dudley was just training to beat up on little kids. He didn't really mind the continuous, mindless work his 'family' had been making him do ever since he came back from school. He would welcome just about anything to keep his mind off of what had happened in the Department of Mysteries and…Sirius. Quickly shoving the thought to the back of his mind and letting out an explosive sigh, he dragged his tired body to a corner of the attic and towards a stack of boxes. The boxes were covered by a dingy white sheet and he pulled it off, tossing it somewhere behind him. When the sheet was pulled off, a thick cloud of dust flew into the air and Harry began sneezing again. Just what he needed, more dirt going down his throat.
Harry had to squint his eyes to see through the dust, reaching up to wipe the grime from his glasses. There were three large cardboard boxes stacked on top of a worn, oddly shaped leather case. The case was slightly warped with age, with huge brass studs along the seams and gold latches on the front. Quickly grabbing the boxes ('Dudley's Baby Things') and tossing them aside he got down to his knees and pulled the case towards him. It took him a moment to realize that it was a guitar case. What would a guitar case be doing in the Dursley's attic? They weren't exactly what you would call the creative types; the most creative thing that had been done in this house was the one time Aunt Petunia had bought a gnome for the backyard. It had lasted all of two days before Dudley smashed it because he had a dream that it came and tired to chew off his feet during the night.
Looking over the case he saw something scrawled in loopy gold writing on the side. He wiped the dust off the signature and complete shock flashed through him, running down his spine and causing the hair on his arms to stand on end. Lily Evans was written just above the latches. The name was kind of faded but there was his mother's name, clear as day. Why would something of his mother's be in the Dursley's attic? He could not imagine that Aunt Petunia would keep something of her sister's, she didn't even want to keep him.
He slid his hands down the front of the case and carefully gripped the latches. His hands were shaking as he began to loosen the latches, a wave of anticipation washing over him. This was his mother's. He had never really seen something that his mom had actually owned, that she had touched and he was suddenly feeling very nervous. The case opened surprisingly easily despite the dirt that was caked around the hinges. Peering inside, he let out a small gasp.
A dark colored acoustic guitar was nestled snugly in the red velvet lined case. He could not see much of the guitar in the dim lighting of the attic and the shadow cast by the top of the case but he could make out the sound hole and the inricately etched lillies around it. Just as he was reaching inside the case to pull out the guitar he heard Uncle Vernon yelling from the bottom of the stairs.
"Hurry up boy!" He shouted. "Get down here now or you'll get no dinner! I won't be having those freaks accusing us of starving you!"
"Something I'm sure you would never do." Harry muttered.
"What did you say boy?"
"I'm coming!" as soon as Harry heard his Uncle's footsteps moving away from the stairs, he hurriedly closed the lid and threw the sheet back over the case. He stood up to leave the room but then paused, pressing a hand against the covered case in a silent promise to come back later. With one last regretful look, he high-tailed it down the stairs lest Dudley eat both his own dinner and Harry's. Lord knew he had more than enough room to put it away.
'Mom played the guitar?' He thought as he headed down the stairs. 'Why didn't anyone ever tell me? Why would anything that belonged to his mother be in the Dursley's attic?' Harry's mind was a jumble of confusing thoughts as he made his way down the stairs and to the kitchen.
"About time you got down here boy." Aunt Petunia snapped as soon as he came into view. "We've been waiting for ages."
"Waiting? You've never waited for me to start eating." Harry said, sucpision dripping from every word. 'They want somethin'.
"What's going on?"
"Nothing boy! Just sit down and eat the food you Aunt prepared." Still glaring suspiciously at his relatives, Harry slid into his chair. One glance at his plate and his face immediately scrunched up in disgust. Poking the charred stuff on his plate with his fork, he feverently wished that Mrs. Weasley was in the kitchen. 'If Voldermont doesn't kill me Aunt Petunia's cooking will.' Spearing what he could only guess was a piece of meat and popping it into his mouth, he tried to control the urge to gag.
"Guess I'm not a Gryffindor for nothing." He thought sarcastically as he speared more "food" trying to finish as fast as possible. As soon as he finished his so called meal he stood up to bolt back to the attic.
"Hold it boy! We have something we need to discuss with you." Uncle Vernon bellowed after him. 'I knew it' Harry thought with a sigh as he slid back into his seat.
"Tomorrow your Aunt Marge will be coming for a visit and you will-"
"Don't interrupt me!" Vernon's face was already changing from red to puce. He took a deep shaking breath, obviously trying to calm his voice. It did not work too well.
"When Mage arrives you will come down, help her with her bags, and them go to your room and not come back for the rest of her stay."
"Fine with me." Harry grumbled. Uncle Vernon chose to ignore that comment.
"Petunia will bring you a meal once a day, you will be allowed out for bathroom breaks twice a day, there will be no funny business." Uncle Vernon said forcefully.
"Do you understand boy?"
"Yes, Uncle Vernon." Harry stated blankly "Can I go now?" Vernon grunted at him and he took it as an affirmative, he jumped up and headed up the stairs and to the attic. He did not want to spend one more moment in their company.