After some soul searching, Harry realizes that he needs some severe training to defeat Voldemort. Join him as he learns how to deal with his life in general. Warnings there will be graphic child ab...
Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Harry Potter. I do not own the song that Jedd Hughs sings /Soldier for the Lonely. /The song felt right. Please don't sue. I need the extra money to put gas in my truck.
Author's note: This is my first fan-fic that I am attempting to write chapters for. Let me know if this is okay or bad. I know this Severus helps Harry story has been done before, but I think that my story is a little different. Every chapter will have either a song or quote that inspired me.
Summary: After some soul searching, Harry realizes that he needs some severe training to defeat Voldemort. Join him as he learns how to deal with his life in general. Warnings there will be graphic child abuse scenes. Rated for those and for language.
I am a soldier
Trained and conditioned
Served my time
But I didn't choose this mission
Fighting a war
I think I'm the only
Soldier for the lonely
I have been wounded
But it's not deterred
Or weakened my desire
To defend them
'Cause I'm the only
Soldier for the lonely
For every heart that's been broken
For every kind word left unspoken
Every promise not remembered
I'll not forget
I'll not surrender
'Cause I'm the only
Soldier for the lonely
Here in the trenches
Nights are long
Nobody holds me
'Cause I'm the only
Soldier for the lonely
I'll plant a rose
I'll shed a tear
I'll die alone
No one to hear
My battle cry
'Cause I'm the only
Soldier for the lonely
I'm the only
Soldier for the lonely
Chapter 1. Soldier for the Lonely
In an ordinary house, in an ordinary neighborhood, lived a boy who was anything but ordinary. First, the boy was none other than the famous wizard Harry Potter, a.k.a. the-boy-who-lived. Second, he was a very thin boy whose spectacles made him look owlish, and the fact that he wore ragged hand-me-down clothes that were four sizes too big for him did not help him much. Lastly, the fifteen-year-old boy was cowering in a corner of the smallest room in the house crying during the summer holidays. His Uncle had just punished him for chores that he did not do to an acceptable level. Harry, unlike most children his age hated the summer holidays. He would much rather be at school. Instead, Professor Dumbledore made him go home to his "loving" relatives.
So, needless to say, Harry felt like he was a prisoner. And, he hated feeling that way. He was prisoner in both of his worlds. In the Muggle world, he was a prisoner to an aunt and uncle that despised him and anything magical, so they kept him locked in a room or his cupboard. They only let Harry out for his punishments or so that he could do his chores.
In the wizarding world, Harry was a prisoner to a prophecy, that a flighty woman made before he was born, and to his fame for said prophecy. A prophecy that Harry could feel breathing down his neck, and a prophecy that no one should ever have to deal with, let alone a fifteen-year-old boy.
The prophecy boiled down to kill or be killed. He knew that he could kill. He had done so before, out of self-defense; however, he felt like a dead man walking./ And, a lonely one at that. /If they knew the prophecy, their lives would be in danger. I do not want to take any of my friends on life's next great adventure. /I cannot tell my friends about this. Only one other person to Harry's knowledge knew what the entire prophecy said. /Not that I trust Dumbledore anymore. /I feel like such a pawn in his game. That is all that any of us are anymore to him, just disposable pieces. We are only important if we can keep him from losing the game to Tom./ When Harry had come home a week ago, he swore that he would never call Tom Marvolo Riddle by his self-made name again. Lord Voldemort was nothing but an anagram to Harry.
Pounding on his bedroom door brought Harry out of his silent contemplation. Harry quickly wiped the tears from his eyes and got to his feet as Vernon unlocked his bedroom door. Vernon said, "Boy, it is time for you to make lunch. Don't burn anything or else!"
Harry nodded his head and followed his whale of an uncle downstairs and to the kitchen. After making lunch, he served the family, and went upstairs. He just knew that his family would not allow him to eat if his cousin Dudley was still hungry. Dudley was always hungry. Thirty minutes later, Harry went downstairs to see if his family left him any food. Harry disgustedly looked at the empty plates and started doing the dishes. Harry let his mind wander while he was washing the dishes. Mentally, he started formulating a plan. After Harry had finished washing the dishes and cleaning the dining room, he went to his room.
The raven-haired boy sat in his bedroom depressed. He was tired of thinking, but there was nothing else to do except chores. Luckily, he was already done with this afternoon's chores. Harry Potter was tired of thinking about his sorry excuse for a life. He knew that his life was unfair. Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived, did not have a "loving" family. Tom Riddle made sure of that. Riddle killed his parents before he was even two years old. Harry himself had inadvertently killed his Godfather the month before. Since then Harry had only felt a handful of emotions: anger, hatred, guilt, despair, and sorrow.
Harry stopped and mentally berated himself. Harry thought about all the people who had lost someone to the war. He thought of the scared little boy that lost both of his parents to insanity, which the Death eaters forced him to watch. He thought of the werewolf that lost his entire pack in one night. He thought of the red headed family that lost twin boys to the death eaters. He thought of whole families that were lost fighting, sometimes to both sides. He thought of the other countless children forced to grow up without their parents. He thought of everyone who lost a sister, brother, father, mother, son or daughter. He realized that his parents and Sirius did not die so that he could feel sorry for himself. He was angry and disgusted with himself. Then and there, he made a promise to himself and his loved ones. He got out some parchment and started putting his plan on paper.
First Harry wrote something down for inspiration.
I, Harry James Potter, will no longer act without thinking. I will not endanger my friends' lives, by recklessly leading them without having a solid plan. My life matters not to me; however, the lives of my friends and family come before mine. I will fight this war; not because I want to, but because I will not let innocent people die for a insane man's sick pleasures, and misguided beliefs. Nightly, I watch as Riddle tortures those innocents. Some nights are longer than others but they are always solitary.
I am not ashamed to say that my visions make me cry. For, I am witness to the brutal way in which these poor, innocent people die. I am glad that no one else has to see my nightly visions the way that I do. I wish, though, that I had someone to share them with. Maybe with someone's help, I can see the reason for Riddle's insanity. I wish some one would hold me while I have them, instead of being yelled at for making too much noise in the middle of the night. I am hurt because no one is here to help me deal with my feelings. I am utterly alone. I have let them sweep me under the rug. I did not choose to be their "savior," their Golden-boy, but I will do everything in my power to protect those I love.
I may be young but Tom has already made me a conditioned soldier. This war has wounded me physically, emotionally and mentally. I have grown up knowing what loss is. My life has always been pain and heartache. I fight to prevent more children from growing up as I have. There were too many orphans in the first war. No one should have to live without love. No one, no child should have to be as lonely as I have.
My parents and Sirius's, deaths have not been in vain. I will not let them down. I will not surrender until I complete my mission in life. Failure is no longer an option. I could not bear to face them in the afterlife a failure. When I meet them, I will not stand before them in shame. I will learn what I need to so that I may kill the bastard that stole my life. Tom Riddle WILL NOT win this war. And, when I die alone no one will know my pain.
I love you Mum, Dad, and Padfoot. I am sorry. I will not let you down again. I miss you all. I hope that I will join you soon and end my loneliness, if, you, my family accept and forgive me in the afterlife.
Harry took out another piece of parchment, and at the top of the page, he wrote down, PLAN OF ACTION/. The first thing he wrote underneath it was /1. Training/. Harry looked at the beginning of his outline. /This one is going to be the hardest to accomplish. How to train? I cannot do any magic outside of school since I am too young. Dumbledore says I have to stay here for at least a month. So where do I get help to train. I cannot leave Number 4 Privet Drive without a guard or a small army.
Harry decided that he needed more books to further his education. /How do I do magic without being caught? And what exactly do I need to defeat Tom? /Harry made a mental list of people that would help him without too much of Dumbledore's interference. He narrowed his list down to Remus and surprisingly, Professor Snape. Well only one of those people he was talking too presently. The second would be a lot of work, something like Hell freezing over to be exact. The next thing Harry decided to do was write some letters. He pulled out fresh parchment and started with Mrs. Weasley. He wrote:
Dear Mrs. Weasley
I hope things are going well for you this summer. I am sorry that I put two of your children's lives in danger last month. Nevertheless, know that if it had been one of them instead of Sirius, I would have done the same for them. I hope that they are feeling better now. I did try to get them to stay behind but they would not let me go alone. I hope that you are not too mad at me.
The Muggles are treating me decently. And things are better here this summer. I am fine. You can tell members of the "old crowd" I said hi. I need you to give Remus the spare key to my Gringott's vault. I need him to buy some things for me this summer, as I cannot leave the house. How are things there?
Thank you for everything,
PS Tell Ron, Ginny, Fred, George, and Mr. Weasley I said hi, and that I am okay.
To Remus he wrote:
May I call you Remus or Moony? I think that calling you Professor Lupin all of the time gets somewhat tedious. You are the only family that I have left.
Honestly, though how are you? Things are okay with me. I miss Snuffles terribly, though. I hope you are okay, I know that he was the last of your family, and I am sorry to be the cause of his loss. I have made a decision. I will no longer sit idly by and let things happen to those that I love. I will not sit around depressed anymore. Sirius would not want that. I know that this is a war, and that other lives will be lost. Once I kill Riddle, I will mourn Snuffles' death. I will mourn them all.
I was wondering if you could do a favor for me. I need you to go shopping for me please. I know that is a funny request, but I need help. There are things I need from Diagon Alley, and I know that I may not leave my aunt and uncle's house yet. Going into Diagon Alley would require a small force, and I highly doubt Dumbledore would allow me to go anyway. Therefore, I am not even going to ask him. I understand why I am a prisoner, but still I do not like it any more than Snuffles did. I have already owled Mrs. Weasley and told her that you would be stopping by to get the spare key to my vault.
I need all of my sixth-year books. I think I got most of my O.W.L.s. I need my Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, and Care of Magical Creatures books. I would also like more books please. I am stuck here for at least a month, and I need something to do. I would like a more comprehensive study of Potions, starting with an in depth look from the beginning. I need a guide to potions that would spell it out for me if you catch my drift. Is there a book called Potions for Dunderheads? If there is, can you get it?
If I did not get an O in Potions, I still plan to take my NEWT for it. As for Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Transfiguration I will trust anything that you send me. I would also appreciate a book or two on Occlumency and light healing (or magical first-aid books). Knowing what to expect, I think that simple theory on Occlumency will help me. The light healing books will help, because we are in a war and we can keep each other from falling apart on the battlefield. Do not worry about the cost of the books. Spend as much as you need to, please I have more than enough money, and I will go crazy with boredom.
I know that I have not taken Arithmancy or Ancient Runes, but I would like the last three years worth of textbooks for both classes. Oh, could you buy any other books that look interesting regarding those two subjects.
I need to train. I really do. Since I cannot use magic, then reading about it should help. Don't worry I will not get into trouble for underage use of magic. Here I can practice saying the incantations without my wand. And, I can practice wand movements without saying the incantations. This is how I normally do my homework over the summer. When I get back to school, I will be able to use the magic I learned. The theory will be a great asset.
I would like you to bring the books by, since I would not even think of burdening some poor owl. I have some questions regarding my training. I would like to talk to you about them in person though.
I can't wait to see you. Oh, can you by some chocolate please?
See you soon,
PS I sent you a letter to Gringott's stating that you could withdraw money on my behalf. Thanks again.
Harry finished his letters and called his owl Hedwig to him, "Hedwig, can you take these letters to Remus and Mrs. Weasley, please?" The owl hooted at Harry while he tied the letters to her leg and she flew out of the window.
Harry looked at his owl flying away and started to panic. Sub-consciously he kept a glamour on himself to hide the scars. However, hiding the bruises took too much out of his magical reserve. Since his family was giving him little to no food, he needed his magical reserve in case of an emergency. Even if he did not need the extra help from his magic. He would not let his uncle know that he could hide bruises, because Vernon would attack the more visible parts of his body more often.
Harry was not worried about this morning's punishment because his uncle only hit him across his back with a belt. He nearly forgot about the sound beating that he got two days ago. The kind that Uncle Vernon gave only if he had been drinking, or if Harry performed accidental magic. He ran to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. He prayed that the bruises would be gone by the time Remus stopped by. Normally Harry could care less about his punishments.
Unfortunately, since The Order of the Phoenix threatened his Uncle Vernon a week ago, Dursley had been in a foul mood. Upon coming home from King's Cross, Uncle Vernon stated that, "No freaks are going to tell me what to do in my own home." Harry had already been beaten two or three times. He looked in the mirror for the first time in a week. What he saw was not too bad. He could say that he and his cousin had gotten a little rowdy and Duddley had given him a black eye while "muggle dueling."
If not for the wards and protection that his mother's blood provided him, Harry would never set foot in the house again. Nobody would ever know that his "loving" relatives abused the-boy-who-bloody-lived. The wizarding world would never give him any peace if they found out.
The truth was that since Sirius died, Harry felt deserving of the starving, the beatings, the slave labor, and the emotional abuse. In Harry's mind Privet Drive equaled Azkaban. The Dursleys were the Dementors that sucked all the happiness out of his soul. Their treatment of him was the punishment for all of the blood on his hands. He knew he was responsible for many deaths already and he was only fifteen. He knew that he was responsible for his parents deaths first, second Professor Quirrell, third was Cedric Diggory, and the last and most personal his godfather, Sirius Black. /If I wasn't the savior of the wizarding world, I would provoke Uncle Vernon to the point of killing me. But no, since I am the boy-who-bloody-lived, I have to pretend everything is normal. And I have to kill the-sodding-bastard-that-refuses-to-die. To be honest with myself, who would believe that my relatives treat me this way? /Harry let out a sigh.
With the Daily Prophet's stories in his fourth year, people, including a certain Potions Master, would think that he was merely asking for more attention. And the last thing Harry Potter needed was more attention.
Harry stood at the top of the stairs, his Slytherin self-preservation warring with his Gryffindor courage. Harry gave one last sigh pushed his Slytherin side away, gathered his Gryffindor courage, and bravely went down stairs to inform his aunt and uncle that sometime in the next day or two a visitor would be stopping by to see him and check up on him.
Harry looked around for his family. He found them in the kitchen eating a snack. "Boy, what are you doing out of your room," yelled his whale of an uncle.
"Uncle Vernon, I just got word that a friend of mine is going to stop by sometime in the next couple of days. He is dropping something off and then he will be leaving. I don't think that he will be here for long," replied Harry nervously. Harry watched his uncle's face change colors. His face changed from normal then drained to a ghostly white, to red and finally settled on a fine shade of purple.
"Boy, you didn't tell him anything did you? Because, if you did I'll make sure all he finds is a corpse." Earlier in the week, Vernon had accused Harry of telling the wizards about his treatment at home. Vernon did not understand why people would care enough about the boy to create a scene in public. He did not realize his nephew's importance in the eyes of all wizards. The Order was quite lucky that Vernon Dursley was so dense. The amount of money that his family could have asked of the Order to protect Harry would ensure that one Vernon Dursley would never have to work again.
Harry stammered, "N-no Uncle Vernon, sir you proof-read the letters I have sent my friends. I will send another tomorrow; however, with Remus stopping by I doubt I will need to write one. I was planning to tell Remus that I was helping Duddley with his boxing practice. I was going to tell him that since I do not know the sport, I am simply not good enough or fast enough to keep up with him.. He does not know many of /your /sports so it would confuse him. That should answer any questions that he might have."
Uncle Vernon nodded and merely said, "Well I guess that would work. There may be hope for you yet, boy. Get back to your room until it is time for you to cook dinner. I do not want to see you after that. When the freak leaves then we will discuss any punishments that I feel that you deserve."
"Yes Uncle Vernon," replied Harry as he climbed the stairs and went to his room.
Once upstairs, he pulled his outline from his hiding place and added 2. Apologies. Under that, he wrote Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna, Professor Dumbledore, and Professor Snape. He also added 3. Life after the war(?). Under that, he wrote down O.W.L results. Then he wrote Options for jobs. There he listed Auror / Unspeakable, Teacher, Healer, professional Quidditch player, and politician. He also wrote down a few things that he thought that he needed to go incognito. He also wrote financial status. Do I own any property, or houses?
Harry put away the paper, and realized that living after the war could be dangerous. /Once I kill the sodding bastard, will they let me live my life in peace? I think that is highly unlikely. I must find someone I can trust to help me. Damn, Dumbledore, everyone I know will go running to him, and I will never have any peace. Speaking of Dumbledore I think that I will leave the house anyway, just to defy him. First thing in the morning, I am going to Gringott's then to Flourish and Blotts. I hope that I don't run into Remus. /Harry decided that he needed a disguise. He also understood that he needed to be careful, because the Order could have a person guarding him. The only person that he did not think that he could fool was Mad-eye Moody. Every other person he could outmaneuver. Why would the Order suspect that he would leave the house, when he had already asked Remus to go into Diagon Alley already?
Harry realized that it was getting late and if he wanted to get away from the members of the Order, he would need to leave early in the morning. With those thoughts he put his things into the space that loose floorboard underneath his tiny bed hid. That space held all of his important items. He pulled out his invisibility cloak, as he needed it in the morning. He also took out his wand and his photo album. Harry spent some time looking at the pictures of his parents and Sirius. Before he put the album away, he took his resolution out and placed it inside his album. He carefully returned his album back to the space underneath his bed. He changed into his pajamas and climbed into bed.
Harry tried to clear his mind of all emotions before falling asleep. Nevertheless, he was finding the task exceedingly difficult as always. Tonight he felt none of the despair, and guilt that he had been feeling since Sirius' death. Tonight, was different, he now had a purpose, and the beginnings of a plan. He knew the prophecy; now, he knew that he would fulfill it. The new fire that consumed him burned hot. So, clearing his mind of vengeful emotions was just as difficult as those of guilt were. After an hour, Harry finally cleared his mind well enough to fall asleep.