his magical inheritance comes into play as his past comes to torment the aggressors
Harry heard Bella’s triumphant scream, but he knew that it had meant nothing - Sirius had only fallen behind the curtain and in a moment he would be back with a vengeance for making him look stupid in front of everyone, he would reappear from the other side in a second...
However, Sirius did not show. "SIRIUS!" Harry yelled, "SIRIUS!" Harry reached the base of the dais, he knew that all he had to do was pull back the curtain and there his godfather would be... as Harry reached further only centimeters away, Lupin grabbed Harry around the chest, holding him back.
"There is nothing you can do Harry it's too late he's gone through we can’t reach him," Harry struggled hard and viscously but Lupin would not release him, "I'm sorry Harry he's gone."
Fifteen year-old Harry Potter had been lying on his bed since he got home from his fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry five days ago. He lay there staring at the ceiling with a faint sadistic smile, to overcome with grief to bother getting up. He had lost his godfather a few days ago in a fight against the death eaters and he had learned the horrifying truth about himself and Voldemort. The prophecy repeated itself in Harry’s head during every waking moment and the visions of Sirius’s death plagued his dreams. So far, Harry’s aunt and uncle had not said a word, and it seemed that they had taken Mad-eyed Moody’s threat seriously. The quiet would not last, however, Harry laid back smiling waiting for it to happen. The smile was not one of happiness or any emotion really. It was a mischievous smile. Though he was crying himself to sleep almost nightly, Harry had taken on a new approach to things in the past week. Instead of showing his sadness by wallowing in misery, he had taken to the idea of making Sirius proud of him. As a marauder that is. Pranks were in a common appearance in the house daily, almost hourly some days. One day he took a page from Fred and George and let a swamp loose in the house. As soon as his aunt, uncle, and cousin were knee deep in muck, he let the fireworks box Fred gave him do its thing. After about three hours of Harry laughing, Professor Dumbledore and Remus Lupin had come to sort this matter out. It was also the first time he had even seen Remus angry. It was a bad conversation all around.
"Harry, why did you do this to those poor people? Did they do something so bad that this was a punishment?" Dumbledore asked, seemingly hoping for a reason behind*d this.
"Not really, nothing more than they usually would do; besides I was bored." Harry said that devilish grin he had formed this summer grew on his face for the first time in this moment.
"Professor, could I speak with Harry for a minute?" Remus asked. Dumbledore merely nodded and walked out of the room leaving Harry to learn why you never invoke a werewolf's temper.
"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING!" Remus screamed at Harry shortly after putting a silencing charm on the room.
"Cimon Mooney, even you know it was funny! Watching them just squirm around like that. After all don’t they deserve a house to look like their attitude?" Harry said, not even fazed by the screaming. He started to ruffle his hair as he had seen his father do, still holding that mischievous grin. Remus looked at him shocked.
"Harry this is not you. I know I may not see you that much, but I know you are not like this." Remus started out trying to make the boy talk.
"Mooney, you really don’t know me then. This is me, and its all just fun. I was bored, they were here and with the history that we have shared they deserved it!" Harry said laughing.
"Harry what do you mean 'with the history you share start this?" Remus asked
With a somber tone, Harry asked "Are you sure you want to know, are you completely sure about this if we do this there is no going back?" With a nod from Remus, Harry placed a hand upon his forehead and concentrated on the painful memories of his 'family'.
Remus closed his eyes when he felt a pull on his mind, at first he fought it but the presence of Harry and relaxed. He felt surrounded in darkness, there was a gloomy light and then flash, the horrid scenes of Harry’s 'child hood' played before Remus.
Somebody banged on the door to the cupboard underneath the stairs and a loud voice said, “Get up, boy” A small down trodden and malnourished boy groaned and turned over. The voice– Petunia –yelled again, and I knew the child had to get up.
“I’m awake, Aunt Petunia.”
“Get up, so you can fix breakfast”
“Yes, Aunt Petunia.” I heard her walk away and young Harry sigh with relief. He sat up and pulled on a pair of old socks that probably used to be my cousin Dudley’s. There were holes in both heals and they were somewhat big. Just about everything the boy owned seemed to of belonged to Dudley at one time or another. The only problem is, Dudley’s about four times the boy’s size, so all his stuff is huge upon him, but that seems to be all that his uncle and aunt ever give him, and that is what he haze to be content with.
“Hurry up, boy” Uncle Vernon called from the kitchen. He probably does not like to wait for things.
“Yes, Uncle Vernon.” Harry opened the door of the cupboard that has been his room for some time and climbed out. Vernon and Petunia must have never really saw fit a reason to give him a bedroom, so he must have slept in the cupboard under the stairs for all the time he's lived with them–and from the looks of things it's been eight long years. He hated that cupboard, and they know it. It is dark and small and smells a little bit like moth-balls. There are many spiders in there, but Harry does not seem really to mind them. 'At least they’re somebody to talk to, even if they don’t answer back. But I think the very worst thing about the cupboard under the stairs is the feeling it gives me.' Remus could hear young Harry’s thoughts concerning his life hear. 'The feeling I get when Uncle Vernon locks me in there and there’s no light, with the walls feeling like they’re closing in on you. The feeling of knowing you are alone, and wondering if you will ever get out again seeing the light...I hate that feeling. If you have ever been locked in a small, dark place you know what I am talking about and if you have not–you could not possibly imagine. It is the worst feeling in the world, and it frightens me. And it makes me feel weak. Weak is one thing I never want to be. So, I truly hate that cupboard under the stairs.'
A tear fell down Remus's cheek and in a soft whisper he said, "Harry I'm sorry for what these people have done to you, you have shown me enough release me."
A menacing figure stood before him and it took a moment for Remus to realize that it was Harry, "Harry your right, they deserve everything that you have done to them and more please release me."
In a cold and heartless tone Harry said, "No Remus, I asked you if you were sure about seeing my past and you said yes, I told you that once started there was no turning back and asked if you were sure and you said yes. I have had to live with this treatment daily since I can remember, I have tried to go to others for help nothing Fred, George, and Ron told there parents about bars on my windows, being locked in my room, and barely being fed but they did nothing and brushed it off as a tail to get out of trouble and would listen to nothing that I said. This is only one memory of many, and if I can live through them then surely you can watch, you can’t leave until you have scene what I have felt!" And with that he was gone in a waif of smoke.
The way that Harry had spoken to him sent a chill down Remus’s spine and caused another tear to fall, with a grim determination he went into the kitchen.
Harry was cooking bacon on the stove and smoke started to rise from the pan, Remus could see Harry’s fat cousin slowly start to sneak up upon Harry, Vernon started to yell at Harry about the bacon when Dudley lifted Harry’s jumper and shove his chest upon the stoves heated element, while flailing about in pain spilled the bacon splashing the grease upon his arm and across the floor. Vernon stood up, face purple, and started to march his way toward his nephew spewing forth obscenities from his mouth. When he reached Harry he started to punch and kicking him toward the cupboard under the stairs. Remus was furious his inner wolf demanding that he protects his pack-brothers cub tears were now freely flowing forth from him as he heard the resounding crack of bones breaking.
Remus knew he was in another memory when he could see Harry once more, he could feel every emotion and thought that belonged to the savior to the world, and all they did was cause him more heartache.
Harry Potter sat in his cupboard under the stairs, leaning against the wall, a deep gash on his cheek. This was the newest damage his uncle had done to him when he had accidentally burned Dudley's toast. He winced as he adjusted his broken arm into a more comfortable position.
He sighed bitterly into the darkness. At the moment, he couldn't care less. Nothing mattered now that Sirius was gone. And without Sirius, his life was empty, meaningless. The fear had left him, and he had long given up given up hope. He felt the guilt eating away at him all the time. He loved Sirius more than he loved life itself. But now, his godfather was gone. Who cared? Everyone he knew would eventually draw away from him, leaving him alone. He wished for the millionth time that he were someone else, anyone else, anyone but himself. He did not want the fame, the pain, and the way people were constantly gawking at his forehead. The burden and expectations from the magical population were too much. He was a defenseless log, sitting in the middle of a blazing fire. Waiting, bearing, until it all became too much and the fire consumed him. Until he broke down and turned into ash. He knew it in his heart that it would only be a matter of time.
And his friends ... He loved and cared for them, yes, but he knew that they didn't want him. They did not care about him; he only cared about his fame and wealth. Everything had all been an act, an act caused by pity. He did not want their pity and sympathy; he did not want to be treated as if he were fragile and unstable like glass.
'It's not true,' a small part of his brain said. 'They care for you.'
But no, it couldn't be. If they truly cared, why haven't they written a single letter to him all summer? Why haven't they replied any of the letters he had written, pleading and crying for help? No, he meant nothing to them, not anything but a worthless burden. The Dursley’s had been right. He was a freak, even in the wizarding world. The only people who had ever cared for him were his parents and Sirius, and they were all dead. Dead because of him.
Hot tears ran down his cheek, leaving a trail of water behind. He furiously wiped them away. He had to be strong, crying would not help.
His uncle threw open the door, a belt in his hand.
"YOU FREAK!" Vernon yelled, hitting the cowering boy. "You made me lose my job after all we've done for you, you worthless, ungrateful brat! You are just like your parents, ignorant and foolish! How DARE you..."
The belt came down again and again, leaving cuts and gashes over the smooth skin. He began to bleed, the blood dripping from his mouth, down his arms...
"No, stop..." Harry whispered.
"Stop? STOP!" This just seemed to make Vernon angrier. His uncle pulled out a knife and looked at it, a malevolent smile on his face. Harry shivered.
His uncle reached over and threw him to the ground, sitting on him and keeping him there. He felt a rib break in half as the heavy weight landed on him.
"Isn't it beautiful?" he heard his uncle whisper as the man placed the icy knife on his back. He shivered more than ever.
Suddenly, Vernon lifted the sharp metal and began to cut. He bit back a cry of pain as the knife slashed, again and again, drawing more and more blood.
A young, whimpering child lay surrounded in shadow and gloom, he was covered in bruises, cuts, and blood as a walrus sized man walked away laughing.
The same child only slightly older was being slammed against the wall, causing a gash to appear upon his cheek and the being beat for befouling said wall.
The flashes of the torment that Harry has had to live through played themselves constantly in Remus's mind, and he couldn't help but to wonder how after everything that he has been through how Harry can be such a caring person.
Slowly he opened his eyes, they glistened as tears flowed freely from them, Remus tried to say words of comfort to the lad before him but nothing came forth.
"Now that you know what will you do with this information, go and jinx them to hell? Think moony what good are you to me if you are incarcerated, how would getting yourself into trouble teach them anything? If you want to help than Dumbledore must see the error of his ways and if he refuses to meet my demands all hell will break loose and nothing short of a miracle will be able to save his skin." and with that said Harry left the room