Summary: After his godfather dies, Harry wishes he could be anybody else. Little does he know he will get his wish, but at a terrible price: he will have no memory of his past.
The summer after fifth year Harry runs away while an ancient spell makes him forget his past. Adventures await him when he finds himself in an unusual village by the sea, but what will happen after old friends find him and bring him back to a life of war. Will he ever find peace again? Will his memories ever return?
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any way. I'm just borrowing the characters.
Harry could not stand this, he could not stand being Harry anymore…He had never felt more trapped inside his own head and body, never wished so intensely that he could be somebody—anybody—else… Harry Potter & the Order of the Phoenix p. 822
Chapter 1 Thinking Things Through
All was quiet in Little Whinging. Night had long since fallen and every inhabitant of Privet Drive was safe and sound in the comforts of their beds, save one. A teenager with messy raven hair and startling emerald eyes was sitting on a swing in the park as still as a statue. His eyes behind his spectacles were hazy and unfocused as he sat there, in the quiet of the night, in deep contemplation.
Harry Potter was no ordinary teenager. He was a wizard; a young wizard who went through too many terrible things in his short life; a famous wizard who still had much to do.
Only a week ago, he had received the terrible burden of the prophecy. And either must die at the hands of the other for neither can live while the other survives, Harry thought grimly as a cold shiver ran down his spine. He always had the weight of defending the wizarding world against Voldemort on his shoulders, ever since he was eleven, but just didn't think of it that way. Now he knew for certain that he would have to be the one to kill the Dark Lord in the end so that wizards and muggles alike would be able to enjoy a time of peace as opposed to the time of darkness and fear that they were living in now.
And it seemed like a lifetime had gone by since he last saw his godfather, Sirius Black. Sirius, the only parental figure he had ever known, had fallen through the veil of death during a foolish rescue mission. And it was all his, Harry's fault. If only Harry had listened to Hermione when she spoke of his love of playing the hero or even if he had trusted Snape and learned Occlumency properly like he was supposed to, then his godfather would still be alive, and Harry wouldn't have that awful pressure of grief on his heart. But no, he deserved the pain and hollowness inside of him. It was his rashness and his arrogance that had gotten his godfather killed.
With Sirius' death Harry was alone again. Sirius was the only person who truly cared for Harry enough to want to rescue him from the Dursleys. He had asked Harry to live with him a few years ago and that was the only thing Harry had dreamt about since. Harry had always wanted a proper home and a family more than anything else. He knew that was impossible since his godfather was a convicted murderer and on the run, but he had always hoped. Now that hope was gone and an emptiness filled its place.
Harry let out a sigh into the still night air as he let his mind wander. He nearly smiled as his thoughts drifted to his friends. They had gone through so much with him already. He couldn't ask for better friends; his were loyal to no end and he loved them dearly.
They had gone with him and fought by him when he traveled to the Department of Mysteries during the rescue mission to save Sirius. They could have all died that night, he reflected sadly. As it was, Ron will carry the scars from the brains for the rest of his life, and Hermione will be in pain for a while because of that silent curse that had struck her.
No, I won't let my friends get hurt anymore, he decided with a determined glint in his eyes. Too many have suffered or died because of me. He couldn't bear to lose one more person close to him. He was alone now, alone to face the evils out there. He knew now, that was his destiny.
And in a way, that felt right. Ever since he heard the prophecy he had felt alienated from everyone else. He sensed that he didn't really belong in the wizarding world anymore. His ties to it had been severed so severely that he knew he could never feel the same about it as he once did. He was merely a tool and his only purpose was to dispose of Voldemort. After that was finished, who knew what would become of him. He couldn't walk among other witches or wizards anymore without feeling as though he belonged to a different race entirely.
The wizarding world was your first home ever and now you feel as if you don't belong there, a mournful voice echoed in his mind. He closed his eyes and felt tears fall. It was true, he thought as a soft breeze chilled the tears on his face and caused him to shiver. Then where do I belong? No answer came to mind.
He realized he had changed a great deal in a short amount of time. He found himself enjoying little things now that he never considered before. He fell in love with the wind; a strong wind or a soft wind that could come and wipe away his thoughts. He appreciated the brightly burning sun that would shine and warm his always chilled body. He examined tiny details around him like colors and textures that would normally go unnoticed, but would always be there. He became quieter too, suddenly intrigued by the sounds around him. It even seemed like time had slowed. Now that he had faced death time and time again and knew that any moment could be his last, seconds seemed to last longer and days started to feel like weeks.
He thought back to that morning in Dumbledore's office and remembered listening to the students laughing and talking in the Great Hall while eating breakfast. No one knew how he felt. No one had to care about deeper, darker thoughts; serious things that could and would alter the world as they knew it forever. He felt like the world was spinning around him. He had so many things to do and felt so much pain inside that he simply couldn't take it anymore. He just wanted it all to stop.
"Why does everything always happen to me?" he muttered angrily. How he wished he could be normal. How he wished for the parents he never had; parents who could take away all of his problems.
He looked up at the last remaining stars in the cloud covered sky with desperation in his eyes. He wanted somewhere to belong; someplace where no evil could reach him; someplace he could have a chance to act like those in the Great Hall that one terrible morning. No burdens, prophecies, nightmares, anger, or dark lords, he thought bitterly. But no, his deepest desires would never come true. After all, he was Harry Bloody Potter, Boy-Who-Lived and The Chosen One as they were calling him now.
As he sighed once again with resignation he thought he heard a weak, strangled cry. Did he imagine it? After all, it was around two AM on the morning of his sixteenth birthday. He had had a nightmare and needed some fresh air to clear his mind. In his dream he had watched, once again, his godfather fall through the veil. That was how he had ended up sitting on a swing in the park in the middle of the night.
Harry tensed and became instantly alert. He stood with his wand out as his eyes scanned the darkness around him.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" a drawling voice spoke so close to him he could almost feel the breath on the back of his neck.
A/N: What do you think? Is it worth continuing? Your thoughts and comments are always appreciated. They give me motivation!