Declaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does.

Please be nice this is my first fanfiction.

Chapter One: Loved ones lost

It stood alone.

Isolated, and forgotten.

Forgotten by all but one.

Never forgotten by him.

The wind seemed to moan through the many rows of damp headstones that occupied this lonely, secluded place. The threat of more rain lingers in the air, as if a warning to all of no relief, but he didn't care. It wasn't important, all that mattered in his life was gone. He stood before a single gravestone as if the other residents of the cemetery had shunned it. A constant reminder of what was lost to him. The gravestone, the last indication that the boy had ever really lived at all. That and the memories of him that he holds dear.

He had lost so much; so many people had been taken from him in his life. Misery seemed to be the only thing that would not die. Misery clung to him, refusing to let go, like a bad cold that would never go away. So many loved ones gone, his wife the only women he had truly loved. Then as if that wasn't enough pain, his son had been stolen from him, killed right in front of his eyes. The scene still played over and over again in his mind, and in his dream.

Always taunting him.

Reminding him.

Eating through him like a magnet.

Always reminding him of his mistake. Why couldn't he have stopped it? He could still remember the terror in his son eyes as his life drained away. He looked at the gravestone, the gray isolated gravestone that held the name of his only child:

Jamison Howard Carter

Born 1980

Died 1995

The beloved son of Devin and Eva Carter.

If only he had one more chance. One more chance to fix the mistake that he made. One more chance to turn back the clock, to be with his son. He would do anything for that one chance to have his son by his side.

The man knelt before his son's grave reached into his coat pocket and removed a small framed photo of young boy with bright green eyes that sparkled with laughter, peering through his glasses; his mouth turned up in a quiet smile. Wild black hair that could never be tamed, tousled by the wind.

Yes, he would do anything to have his son back with him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Harry Potter a boy of 15 sat crunched against the side of the car door, his cousin Dudley Dursley took up most of the backset of the car as he sprawled in his overfed glory. Harry sighed as he looked out of the window of his Uncle's car. Why was he here, Harry silently asked himself over and over again. Dudley had thrown one major tantrum when he found out that Harry was coming. His chubby, fat, pig-like face had become so red as he screamed his head off that it clashed with his short blond hair that was plastered to the side of his face where it had become stuck from his sugar coated hand pulling on it.. It took Harry's aunt almost an hour and a half to calm him down.

It was plain to see that the Dursley's didn't want him along. Grunning, his Uncle's firm was having a shop picnic and all the employees and their families were invited, so of course the Dursley's were going to go. Mr. Dursley could not miss this opportunity to impress his boss, but there was one problem, Harry. If they could, they would have left him at Mrs. Frigg's house, but the old lady seemed to have disappeared. Then, they were thinking about just leaving him at home, but Mrs. Dursley was absolutely against that idea. She had clearly stated "If Harry stays home alone, he'll probably blow up the house and what would the neighbors think of that." So in the end they had no choice, but to bring Harry along with them.

"Boy," Mr. Dursley had said before Harry had gotten into the car. " If anything happens, anything at all. Then so help me I will make your life a living nightmare, is that understood."

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry said with a sign.

"You are to try to stay out of sight is that understood. I do not want another incident like the one with your Aunt Marge. You are not going to ruin this for me," Mr. Dursley said.

"Yeah, watch it," Dudley said.

Harry had a hard time trying not to laugh at the mention of his Aunt Marge. He remembered clearly what happened that day two years ago. His Aunt Marge had come to visit her brother for a week. At first Harry had made a deal with his Uncle, you see the Dursley's were very afraid that someone might find out Harry's little secret. You see Harry isn't a regular 15-year-old boy, he is a wizard and a very famous wizard at that. Harry had promise that he would behave perfectly and not mention the small fact that he was a wizard to Aunt Marge or that he went to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Instead, he would tell her exactly what Uncle Vernon had instructed him to tell her. That he went to St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boy's. If he had managed to pull it off, then his Uncle would sign the permission slip so he could go to Hogsmeade, a village outside of Hogwarts. Harry had tried, he really had, but Aunt Marge could not keep her mouth shut or her opinion about his parents to herself. He had gotten angry and as his anger grew so did Aunt Marge. Inflating like a carnival balloon until she bobbed against the ceiling of the dinning room.

"If anyone ask, you are not related to us. Is that clear," His Uncle's loud voice broke into his train of though.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry replied.

The trip had been uneventful, the Dursley's didn't speak to Harry and Harry didn't speak to the Dursley's. Surprisingly to Harry, Dudley was quiet most of the way to the park. He was to busy banging his newest, expensive game system against the car door when he got mad at it. Except for the banging and the low whispers now and again from the front seat, it was amazingly peaceful. Harry didn't like peaceful; peaceful brought back memories, dark memories that haunted him day and night. The dead look in Cedric eyes, when Voldemort used the killing curse on him. The way he fell lifelessly to the ground and Voldemort's laugh still haunted him. He blamed himself for Cedric death, if he hadn't pushed Cedric to take the trophy too, then he still would have been alive. But no, he had to be Mister Perfect and have Cedric take the credit along with him. It was because of that, Cedric was dead and Voldemort was back.

It was because of the threat of Voldemort that Harry wasn't allowed to stay at the house of his best friend Ron Weasley, for the summer, like he did for most summer holidays. Dumbledore had forbid it, so Harry had no choice but to put up with the Dursley's for the summer.

"I'm bored," Dudley finally wined. Harry had been beginning to wonder when Dudley was going to start up.

"Don't worry Duddydums, we're here," Mrs. Dursley trilled as she pointed out the window, at a park filled with people and decorated with bright bobbing balloons. Harry thought of Aunt Marge.

"Now, boy" Mr. Dursley said as he turn around to look at Harry " You understand what you are suppose to do. I want you…"

"Yes, Yes, I know. Don't talk to anyone, stay out of sight, and I'm not related to you. I got it. You have already told me this over and over again," Harry said frustrated.

"Yeah, don't get close to the food either," Dudley Yelled.

Mr. Dursley glared, then turn away and got out of the car. Mrs. Dursley followed, then Dudley, who had a quite a bit of trouble getting out of the car door, due to the fact that he was bigger then the car door. Then finally Harry followed then into the bright sun and the park it shined upon.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The man slouched on the park bench as he watched the kids run through the group of people talking and laughing. The kids paid no mind to the shouts of "Slow down" by the adults. The man sighed, he didn't want to be here. He hated it, hated being around these kids and their happy families. If he couldn't be happy, why should they?

It was like the world was mocking him.

Taunting him; saying, look at us, we're happy, you're not.

Laughing at him, we have a family, you don't.

He clenched his fist angrily, and was about to walk away from all the laughing children, when he heard his name called.

"Carter, get over here"

The man let out an irritated growl as he turned around and saw Vernon Dursley standing with a bloated miniature of himself that was throwing a tantrum.

"I want you to clean up this mess," Mr. Dursley demanded as he pointed at the pile of sweets that had fallen to the ground when Dudley had tried to shove them all into his mouth.

Devin Carter glared at the fat pig of a kid, but didn't say a word. "Yes Mr. Dursley sirs," as he bent down to pick up the mess.

"Uncle Vernon, may I go down to the lake to read," a voice said from behind him.

Devin froze, that voice, he knew that voice. It was the voice of someone he though he would never hear from again. He looked up, and saw a boy of about fifteen standing before Mr. Dursley.

"I though I told you not to bother me," Mr. Dursley said.

"I know, I just wanted to know, if it was alright that I went down to the lake to read," The boy said.

"Fine, fine, just get out of my sight," Mr. Dursley said.

Devin watched the boy turn and leave, never taking his eyes off him. It couldn't be possible, but it was.


Well that it. Do you like it, hate it please tell me. Should I continue it or let it become one of the lost stories that is started but never finished.