DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Harry Potter and the Veritable Fate
By: Tarnished Gold Avernus Bayn
The sun rose over Little Whinging lighting up the meticulous lawns of Privet Drive. Life here seemed perfect, from the careful way the landscaping was completed, to the shining windows gleaming in the morning sun. Nothing was amiss, at least from the exterior but inside number 4 Privet Drive, in the smallest bedroom everything was in disarray. There were crumpled papers littering the rickety old table used as a desk, covering the tiny bureau, and overflowing from the bin. There were also several half-eaten meals piled haphazardly by the door and a smallish looking 15-year-old boy lying on the twisted bed linens gazing at but not really seeing the ceiling.
To look at him you would never realize that the boy was anything other then a depressed teenager. But looks can be deceiving, this was no ordinary boy, and this was no teenage depression. The boy was heralded as The Boy Who Lived. The one who had given everyone hope almost 14 years ago when a killing curse backfired on the terror of the wizarding world and left the evil wizard a disembodied spirit. The depression caused by losing his godfather, in a battle at the Ministry of Magic against the very same wizard who terrorized Europe all those years ago.
Harry had slept very little since he had arrived back at Privet Drive. His nightmares had grown progressively worse since the night at the ministry and his scar burned dimly every evening. He has taken to avoiding sleep if at all possible only dropping off when his body simply refused to function any longer. It was rare if Harry could get more then three hours of sleep a night. More often he lie awake, staring at the ceiling and thinking about Sirius, Cedric, his parents. 'How many more would die because of him.'
The conversation taking place downstairs was a testament to how long this had been going on. "There's definitely something wrong with the boy, Vernon," said Aunt Petunia.
"So?" replied Vernon.
"But those people..." hissed Aunt Petunia. "What if... You heard what they said. What if they blame us?"
Vernon paled. "He ...Petunia..."
Petunia waited with annoyance written all over her face. "We need to do something, Vernon. Should we contact those...those people? Lord knows I don't want that kind around any more then you, but something needs to be done. If he continues like this ... if he's harmed ...if he harms himself... you heard what they said ... if he's mistreated IN ANY WAY..." Petunia trailed off the timber in her voice giving Vernon pause.
"Take the boy to a doctor, then," snapped Vernon decisively ending the conversation.
Upstairs nothing had changed. The boy continued staring at the ceiling, not even pausing to wipe the tear that had slipped from his control. He was only startled out of his reverie by the harsh wrapping on the bedroom door. "Get washed and dressed, we're going out." Aunt Petunia barked.
Harry blinked and stared at the door. "Wh-what?"
Aunt Petunia barged into the room. "I said, we're going out. Get up, wash that filth off your body, and for goodness sake put on some appropriate clothes."
Annoyed, she collected the heap of dishes and putrefying food. Muttering loud enough to be overheard, "Ungrateful little freak."
Harry sighed and climbed out of bed slowly. He looked dejectedly at the mess and signed again. Resigned, he headed to the shower at a snail's pace. He dressed, grabbing the first things out of the drawer not really wanting to dress much less caring if the outfit matched correctly. He snorted to himself, 'appropriately, as if clothing at least 4 times too big could ever be appropriate.'
Hedwig hooted softly and landed on Harry's shoulder and then to the desk trying to encourage him further. He sat down at the desk, and exhaled noisily. He petted her absentmindedly. "That time again, Girl?"
Hedwig hooted in response. Harry tore a corner off of one of the crumpled up pieces of parchment and scribbled.
I'm fine. Muggles fine. Everything fine.
"Take this to the order, Girl." Harry whispered softly. He opened the window, watched her fly away and disappear into the early morning sun.