Chapter Text
Ineluctable: unable to be resisted or avoided; inescapable
Harry Potter has never felt so alone.
Sure, there was his second year of Hogwarts where everyone thought he was the Heir of Slytherin. Or hell, even the summer before that year was incredibly lonely due to an overbearing house elf.
Those times there weren’t mass-murderers (who have quite a big grudge against him, by the way. With the whole killing (was it even killing?) their master thing.) just walking about though.
And Harry knew nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Dumbledore had assured him that he wouldn’t be alone. That he would have assistance, and that his efforts to, y’know, stay alive weren’t futile.
Lesser men than Harry would have accepted death at least two attempts prior to the last task of the Triwizarding Tournament.
But alas, here he was. Lying on his back in the front garden of the bloody Dursleys, trying to get some form of information about potential attacks, since his so-called friends don’t tend to respond to his questions, if they even respond at all.
But that’s fine.
Completely and utterly fine.
It’s not as if Harry has successfully managed to survive four confrontations with Voldemort, because if that were the case, then surely someone would have fought to include him a bit more. Or at least have given him a safer place to stay.
He doubts that the Dursleys would offer much resistance to Voldemort just walking in and taking Harry, but perhaps Voldemort has just decided to leave the wizard 50 years his junior alone for once.
Harry snorts.
Wouldn’t that just be wonderful?
As Harry walks back inside (He very much doubts that an attack would be acknowledged after the advertisements.) he thinks back on the last letter Sirius has sent him. At least his letter had shared some of his anger.
10/07/1995
Dear Harry,
How are you? Are the Dursleys treating you alright? Over here everything is fine; Moony has been keeping me from losing the last bit of sanity I have left.
As you’ve probably heard many times now, we aren’t allowed to give you much information over letters. However, I can assure you that the moment we are reunited there will be an excessive amount of explaining on my part. I am terribly sorry that you’ve been forced to stay there- Merlin knows why, I’ve been buggering Dumbledore about it every time I’ve seen him, but he refuses to answer properly.
I hope to see you soon! Keep yourself safe and don’t EVER leave the house without your wand. In fact, don’t let it leave your hands.
Yours truly,
Snuffles
Harry hasn’t heard that many times actually.
The one letter he has received from Ron and Hermione (Combined, mind you. They didn’t even bother to write the same thing twice!) just said that Dumbledore doesn’t want them writing to him since it’s ‘dangerous’, and that they’ll see him soon.
Personally, Harry thinks that there are a lot of things more dangerous than writing a letter to him. Like, I don’t know, Quirell in first year? The Chamber of Secrets in the second? Was the Triwizarding Tournament monitored too closely perhaps?
At least Sirius has tried to convince Dumbledore. At least Sirius has written multiple letters at all, actually.
As Harry gets ready for bed, he bitterly thinks that Hermione and Ron wouldn’t have ever even been involved if it weren’t for him.
Harry wakes up from screaming.
After approximately three seconds, he can confirm that that screaming was, in fact, his own doing.
Another 30 pass, and that’s all Vernon needs to stomp towards his bedroom.
“For the love of God boy, you better pray that you do not wake me one more time, or I’ll make sure that I’ll give you something to scream about!”
Harry desperately tries to get his breathing under control, mutters a hastened “Yes, sir” and promptly tries to ignore the visions of green light flashing right in front of his eyes.
Vernon gives him one more lingering look, before leaving his room (If you could really call it that, since there is nothing to show for it. Upon first glance you might just assume that this room is used as a storage room.).
Knowing that he’s walking on thin ice with uncle Vernon, Harry isn’t exactly willing to risk going back to sleep. It’s not exactly like his nightmares are a weird occurrence, after all.
Casting a quick look to the abandoned clock on the floor, he gathers that it’s 3.47 a.m. Now, technically he doesn’t have to be up until 5.30, and since he has already had roughly four hours of sleep, Harry doesn’t see anything wrong with spending the rest of his time on finishing professor McGonagall’s essay.
If Harry cannot know what’s going on in the wizarding world, he’ll be damned if he isn’t going to at least be as powerful as he can get. And if that means becoming a proper swot, that’s a risk he’s willing to take.
The means to an end right?
Three more weeks pass without anything eventful happening.
During the month which has passed since his departure from Hogwarts, Harry has settled into some kind of routine.
Harry wakes up from his nightmares about the graveyard, he does some form of homework, (Until he’s finished it all, that is. After that he just starts reading all his books from last year, which ends up working in his favour. Apparently fighting dragons and saving friends from merpeople can get in the way of school.). After that he starts on his chores, makes breakfast and does more chores. When he’s finally done with all of that he walks aimlessly around privet drive. Sometimes he’ll coax Dudley to try and hit him.
(To train his reflexes, of course. Never for the sting. (The pain is a welcome change when everything else he feels is anger or numbness.)).
Harry goes back to bed. He has trouble falling asleep, but eventually manages to fall into the world of the dead, only to rise with being reminded that someone he knows has actually fallen to his definite death.
Harry tries to ignore these dreams. He also tries to ignore how the little voice in the back of his mind reminds him that it was his idea to take the cup together in the first place.
Ignorance works, after all. It’s already been mentioned that all he feels is anger or numbness, hasn’t it?
On the second of August though, something’s changed.
Harry still wakes up from a nightmare. Harry still starves until being allowed the scraps of dinner. Harry still walks around the neighborhood after said dinner.
Dudley follows.
That’s all right, Harry can handle Dudley. His taunts aren’t exactly original, and he craves the adrenaline he gets from being in a fight, even though he knows he’s not winning.
He isn’t self assured for long, however, as the first words that Dudley speaks to him are: “You cry out in your sleep, did you know that? All I hear is ‘Cedric, please no! Please don’t die’. Did you kill him, freak? Have you finally done it then? Or was he just one of your boyfriends? Perhaps you’re more of a freak than we thought”.
And that, that kind of does it for him.
Before he has even registered it, he stands in front of Dudley with his wand under his chin.
“Give me one good reason not to use this right now, diddykins. One”.
As Dudley begins to stammer, beg and plead, the air grows significantly colder around them. Dudley pleads even harder, convinced that it’s a result of Harry’s magic.
“Dad’ll kill you if you use it! STOP IT!”
Harry grows frozen. He remembers this coldness.
Dementors.
He expects to hear the screaming start soon.
Sure enough, it’s a scream he hears. It’s not his parents though, no. It’s a scream Dudley lets out after trying to break free, which in the process lets both of them fall down. In the midst of all chaos, he also appears to have let go of his wand.
That’s just brilliant.
The one piece of advice Sirius has given him.
It’s too dark now to see his wand. Hell, he can’t even see his foot. He crawls around aimlessly while Dudley has started to sob.
Harry tries wandless magic. He knows that it won’t work, knows that it’s incredibly hard and incredibly draining.
“Lumos.”
And sure enough, a light bulb is floating just above his palm.
He also finds his wand.
Casting a quick look in Dudley’s direction, he involuntarily shivers. The dementor is just mere centimeters away from his mouth.
Gathering all happy thoughts he can gather, which is admittedly not much, he tries.
He always tries.
“EXPECTO PATRONUM”
It sheds a silvery light, but it’s not enough. He manages to get the dementors a few paces away from Dudley, but still close enough to reach out.
Harry tries again, and sure enough a stag comes whirling around him and Dudley protectively. Once Harry is sure that they aren’t coming back, he moves to Dudley.
“Please, please stop. I’ll do anything, please”. Dudley shivers on the ground, his knees to his chest (which is quite the accomplishment if you ask Harry).
“They’re gone, come on. We need to leave, I don’t know if there are more around here”.
Harry moves to help Dudley up. Dudley, however, seems to be quite content on the floor, which means that Harry practically has to carry him.
Harry is able to do many things. Carrying his cousin three times his size, however, is not one of those things.
“Oh Harry! I can’t believe this-” Harry quickly turns around, wand still in hand. Seeing who it is, however, makes him panic even more (curse living in a muggle neighborhood) and quickly tries to put his wand back in his pocket.
“Don’t you dare put that thing away! They could come back! Here let me help you”. Miss Figg is quick to put the other arm of Dudley around her slim shoulders, and starts to walk.
Harry is utterly confused.
“Oh I am going to kill Mudungus! He is supposed to be on shift until midnight, but the bloody crook has left. I knew that Dumbledore shouldn’t have trusted him with you!”
This does not help Harry’s confusion. In fact, he might be even more confused now.
There are about a hundred questions going around his head, but the one he finally settles on is:
“You know Dumbledore? How?”
“Oh of course I know Dumbledore! Who doesn’t? We’ve been having regular correspondence ever since you moved to Little Whinging”.
This caused even more questions for Harry. The main one, however, he doesn’t dare voice.
‘Does Dumbledore know how I’ve been treated?’
Harry doubts much good could come from knowing the answer to that.
Instead, Harry chooses to ask whether Miss Figg is a witch.
“God no, I’m a squib. Which is why Mudungus needs to be here! In truth, I don’t know if Mudungus could’ve done much, but well”.
As if summoned by hearing his name, a man (who Harry assumes is Mudungus) arrives a mere metres away from them with a crack.
After being thoroughly beaten with Miss Figg her purse, he also disappears with a crack and the promise to let Dumbledore know.
“Well, here you are darling. Don’t go outside again tonight, if there’s anything wrong I’ll be just across the street.”
And with that, Harry is alone again.
Well, except for Dudley of course.
Walking the last few metres towards the front door, he hesitantly knocks. Harry knows that the reaction to Dudley’s current state won’t exactly be pretty.
Aunt Petunia opens the door, and sure enough she’s immediately all over his cousin.
“DIDDYKINS. What in gods name has happened to you?! VERNON!”
Dudley is quickly moved to the couch with the help of both his parents, and in all chaos Harry tries to make a run for it to his room.
“What happened Duddy? You can tell mummy, come on sweet boy”.
Before making it to safety, an owl has arrived and dropped a letter in front of Harry.
Dear Mr Potter,
We’ve recently received knowledge that you performed the Patronus Charm at twenty-three minutes past nine this evening in a Muggle-inhabited area and in the presence of a Muggle.
By doing this, you have breached both the Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Confederation of Warlock’s Statute of Secrecy. This results in the need to destroy your wand and being present for a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic at 9 a.m on the twelfth of August. You are hereby also expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
You can expect ministry representatives to arrive shortly to break your wand.
Hoping all the best for you,
Yours sincerely,
Matilda Nightbloom
Inappropriate use of Magic
Ministry of Magic
Harry can’t breathe.
This can’t possibly happen.
He can’t let this happen.
Decision made, Harry moves towards the stairs. If he’s going to be a fugitive, he needs his trunk.
Dudley keeps on stuttering, and Harry tries to move as quickly and quietly as possible. When Harry is halfway across the stairs however, he hears a quiet “Him”.
That’s all uncle Vernon needs.
Before Harry can run up the rest of the stairs, Vernon has Harry pinned by his neck.
Now Harry actually can’t breathe.
Uncle Vernon is yelling all sorts of things. The only thing that Harry can properly understand however, are the words ‘Boy’, ‘Freak’ and ‘Never should’ve taken you in!’
In the end, it’s Petunia who says that Harry isn’t allowed to die, because surely his sort would do something awful to them for that.
Vernon finally lets Harry go, and moves to the letter.
Harry quickly scoops up the second letter that has arrived.
Harry
Don’t leave the house, and don’t give up your wand. Dumbledore is handling it.
Arthur Weasley
Well if Dumbledore is handling surely it will be fine, Harry thought. It’s not like he’s the reason Harry had to defend himself in the first place.
Vernon is laughing like a maniac. “Seems like those freaks don’t want you after all, huh boy? I don’t think a disciplinary hearing is enough, I’ll give you some discipline myself”, he hissed.
A third owl quickly flies in through the open window.
“ENOUGH OF THESE DAMN BIRDS!”
Vernon looks quite close to exploding. Harry pays him no mind, however, and quickly opens up the third letter.
Dear Mr Potter,
Further to our letter approximately seventeen minutes ago, the Ministry of Magic has amended its decision to destroy your wand until further notice. You may retain your wand up until your disciplinary hearing, where an official decision for both your wand and expulsion will be made. You should, however, consider yourself suspended from school.
With best wishes,
Yours sincerely,
Matilda Nightbloom
Inappropriate use of Magic
Ministry of Magic
The letter is taken from his hands before Harry can read past ‘Yours sincerely’ but he gets the gist thank you very much.
Vernon does not look satisfied.
“Did he use it on you Dudley? Did he use magic? What happened? TELL US!” Vernon spits the word magic out like it physically hurts to say it, and with how purple he’s getting it very well might actually hurt.
Dudley himself does not manage to give a proper explanation, and just settles for: “It was like I was never going to be happy again”.
By now, Dudley is full-on sobbing. Petunia tries desperately to hug him, but can’t quite reach around all of his frame. Vernon has turned back towards Harry, and forces him up the stairs.
Upon entering Harry’s bedroom uncle Vernon demands Harry to take off his shirt, while he himself takes off his belt. Harry refuses.
“It wasn’t me! I swear it wasn’t! They were dementors, I saved your son!”
Vernon obviously doesn’t believe him.
“Turn around boy”.
Vernon is calm. Harry prefers him angry. When he’s angry, he can get away with some yelling, maybe a slap. Calm Vernon is just cruel.
He is also impatient apparently, because before Harry has registered the coldness of the air against his skin or the floor beneath his knees, the first whack has already been given.
He will not cry out.
He will not beg.
He has not begged Voldemort, and he will not beg his muggle uncle.
He will not.
When uncle Vernon deems the gashes along his back enough, he finally backs off and allows Harry ten minutes in the bathroom.
Harry does cry out when the cold water hits his back.
When he’s finished, he isn’t brought back to his room though, no. He’s brought to the cupboard.
“NO, PLEASE NO. I SWEAR I DIDN’T DO IT, I SWEAR”.
Harry thrashes and screams, but if Dudley is three times his weight, then Vernon must be twice as heavy at the very least.
A new routine is made over the next few days.
Harry wakes up. He stays seated where he is, on the floor with his arms around his knees. He tried laying on his back or stomach, but that hurts too much.
When uncle Vernon returns from work, he takes Harry to his bedroom where he injures the boy further. Either with his fists, feet or belt. (He prefers the belt). Vernon is careful not to leave bruises where it will be seen, but his torso and legs are fair game.
After that, Harry’s allowed ten minutes in the bathroom. Then he’s brought back to his cupboard.
He receives a bottle of warm water from Petunia, which, according to the label, contains 500 ml.
This continues on for four days.
On the sixth of August, an owl swoops in with the knowledge that on the seventh of August Harry will be picked up.
Harry has not read this letter. Harry hears this information from Vernon.
Vernon also tells Harry that he will open the cupboard the next morning, and that the whole Dursley family will leave for aunt Marge’s house.
Vernon has kept his word, and the next morning Harry is indeed freed. He makes quick work of taking a proper shower and packing his trunk, before eating half of an apple.
He is still so incredibly hungry, but he knows that eating much more right now will leave him nauseous. Besides, he’s pretty sure that Mrs Weasley will cook quite a feast for his arrival.
Looking at the clock, he realises that he has a few hours or so left before he’ll be picked up. He settles for re-reading his DADA textbook of last year (for the third time, but at least he knows more protective spells than protego now).
He’s sitting on his bed when he hears the door opening downstairs.
It’s 4.37 p.m. Whoever is picking him up is not supposed to be here until 5.
He does not know whether they’re just early, or if these people are simply not part of the group to accompany him.
He’d rather not take any chances though.
He tries to creep down the stairs with only his wand. Try is a key word here, being as injured as he is, properly walking is quite a feat.
Obviously trying isn’t enough though.
When is it?
Professor Lupin is the first person to notice him.
“Good Evening, Harry. Good summer?”
Lupin seems surprised when Harry points his wand in his direction. From the corner of his eye, he can see professor Moody nodding proudly.
“What spell did you spend my third year practicing with me?”
Now professor Lupin just seems sad. He answers though, and quickly vouches for the other 8 members of his group.
After a quick introduction and help with getting his trunk down the stairs, Harry gets to know just how they’re going to be traveling.
Now, don’t get him wrong. Harry loves flying. He has missed it immensely, but he also gets the urge to wince when he sits down. The only reason why he manages to hold it in is because of his practice over the last few days.
Lupin watches him though, and while looking at his expression Harry realises that it probably hasn’t gone unnoticed.
Great, Harry thinks. Now everyone will surely know how he can stand up against Dark Lords, but his muggle uncle is enough to make him pray to a god he knows doesn’t exist.
It doesn’t matter though. Harry will defeat Voldemort, if it’s the last thing he does.
Whether it’s for saving the blood that will ultimately be spilled if Voldemort comes to power, or if it’s for revenge and the knowledge that Harry would be free to live with Sirius.
Harry doesn’t know which one it is, and frankly he doesn’t really care. It comes out to the same goal, after all.