Disclaimer: This is J.K. Rowlings' world, I'm just playing in it.

A Friends Betrayal:
An insincere and evil friend is more to be feared than a wild beast; A wild beast may wound your body, but an evil friend will wound your mind

Once Harry had been allowed into the back-seat of the car, he quickly closed his eyes and tried to close out everything he could in the waking world. His uncle having been thoroughly chagrined made it a point to show that he was not to be threatened in any way. And once Vernon was sure that they were away from prying eyes and the man in the bowler hat, he put his nephew in what he considered to be the boys' rightful place- under his highly polished tanned leather loafers.

Harry didn't care anymore about the man threatening him and then back handing him for not responding, it seemed so pointless to him now. In the backseat of the car under Dudley Dursley's spiteful glare Harry's mind kept taking him back to the memory of being in Professor Dumbledore's office and having his world finally shatter.

"I know how you're feeling, Harry," said Dumbledore very quietly.

"Let me out," Harry said yet again, in a voice that was cold and almost as calm as Dumbledore's.

"Not until I have had my say," said Dumbledore.

"Do you- do you think I want to- do you think I give a- I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU'VE GOT TO SAY!" Harry roared. "I don't want to hear anything you've got to say!"

"You will," said Dumbledore steadily. "Because you are not nearly as angry with me as you ought to be."

'If I could have I would have torn him apart with my bare hands... if it would have done any good,' Harry thought to himself as he leaned against the safety glass of window across from where Dudley sat ignoring him.

"...That blame lies with me, and with me alone."

'You and I both know that isn't true,' he inwardly groaned.

"I guessed, fifteen years ago," said Dumbledore, "when I saw the scar on your forehead, what it might mean. I guessed that it might be the sign of a connection forged between you and Voldemort."


"... So you see, I have been trying, in distancing myself from you, to protect you, Harry. An old man's mistake ..."

'Full marks for practical application of trying to placate your student Albus, bravo!' Harry thought shifting his head on the cool safety glass to try and soothe the pulsing scar above his right eye.

"Kreacher lied," said Dumbledore calmly.

'One more for the list.'

"...He went to the only Black family member for whom he had any respect left ... Black's cousin Narcissa, sister of Bellatrix and wife of Lucius Malfoy."

'Two more.'

"People don't like being locked up!' Harry said furiously, rounding on him. "You did it to me all last summer!"

'I should have added the previous eleven years and four summers prior into that accusation... '

"It is time," he said, "for me to tell you what I should have told you five years ago, Harry. Please sit down. I am going to tell you everything. I ask only a little patience. You will have your chance to rage at me- to do whatever you like- when I have finished. I will not stop you."

'Did he really tell me everything, or are there still things that he's hiding from me that he thinks I'm not ready for?'

"My answer is that my priority was to keep you alive"

'Well here I am, back in hell... but wait, at least he gave me a reason,' he added lacing the words he heard in his head with all the sarcasm he possessed.

"... I cared about you too much," said Dumbledore simply.

'LIAR!' Harry screamed into the face of the memory he saw of Dumbledore, eliciting a growl that everyone in the car could hear but chose not pay attention to.

"... and I have watched you more closely than you can have imagined."

'How close?' he questioned while quieting the still lingering growl. The thought of Professor Dumbledore knowing more about him was only adding to the flames of his hatred.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ..."

'There goes any semblance of choice. I wonder if this means I can't kill myself or someone else other than Riddle can't kill me?'

Harry was pondering the possible ramifications of his latest dissection of the prophecy that now threatened to consume his consciousness when Vernon pulled the car to a slow halt in front of the garage door and number 4 Privet Drive in the village of Little Whinging, Surrey. He was the first to exit the car with his hand on Hedwig's cage holding her inside and was waiting at the boot of the car for Vernon to open it so he could retrieve his trunk before any of his other relatives were opening the doors.

The skinny, raven haired boy dressed in clothes much too big for him did not want to be here for a moment longer than necessary and with a fleeting notion that the quicker he moved his things inside the quicker the end of the summer would come and he would be gone. He had already formulated a plan in case his relative became too much to bear which was teetering in his mind as to use it as soon as possible to insure their compliance; but he almost felt as if it was a shot to his pride that he might do what he was thinking, that by doing so would lower him because they weren't worth it. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen Harry surmised, it all depends on how much more he could endure at this point. Harry did not know that he would lose his patience so easily.