Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. If it were, the last two books would be very different. This story is being written simply for pleasure and enjoyment. Anyway, on with the show...

Chapter One: Arrival

"Harry?"

"Yes?" I answered, somewhat disdainfully.

"Um…we're going to be in Hogsmede in a few minutes, just thought you'd like to know."

"Alright Hermione, thanks."

They were afraid of me. They were afraid of my anger, my power, my spite. They had ignored me for an entire summer yet were somehow surprised when I turned up at Kings' Cross, introverted and vengeful. They thought they could get away with ignoring me and they were wrong.

Ignoring Ginny and Hermione's gasps when I pulled my sweater off over my head I turned to put on my Hogwarts' robes. I always thought of them as something like a sister, or at the very least, close friends. I knew that I was muscular. I knew that I looked more masculine than I ever had before in my life. A summer of grief, frustration, and stress does that to a person. I exercised non-stop, just trying to find some peace. I might not be able to beat Voldemort in a duel yet, but I could give him one hell of a thumping in an arm-wrestling match.

"Put your robes on, Harry, otherwise someone will have to mop up after these two," Ron said sullenly, jabbing his thumb at Hermione and Ginny.

Sirius would have been proud of me for attracting this kind of attention, but Ron, Ron just grew jealous. I knew that he had a thing for Hermione, but alas, who am I to tell her who she should find attractive or not?

I leaned over to whisper in Ron's ear, "You'd like that job, wouldn't you mate?"

"Oh shut up Mr. Adonis," he said, the sarcasm in his voice evident.

I felt the train shutter to stop, so I left the compartment, robes billowing in my wake. I thought these robes made me look sinister, and dare I say, Snape-esque. Apparently they made me irresistible, as I noticed the female heads that turned in my direction.

Stepping out in to the night air, I breathed deeply, feeling free for the first time in two months. I was away from the Dursleys and back at Hogwarts, returning to the closest thing I had to a home since that Halloween night.

"Harry! Hold up mate, there's no need to go charging ahead, I didn't mean anything by it. Come on, let's get a carriage."

I followed Ron, Hermione, and Ginny into the nearest carriage, patting a thestral on the head as we walked by.

"How was your summer, Harry? I'm sorry that weren't allowed to owl you, but Dumbledore gave us explicit instructions not to. He said that any intercepted letter could put you in graver danger than you already were in and none of us wanted to do that to you. We're all really sorry Harry, you know that we all care about you very much don't you?" said Hermione in a rush, her diatribe leaving her momentarily breathless.

I glanced at Hermione, noticing that her eyes were bright. She wanted my forgiveness, she was genuinely sorry. You don't find many people like Hermione. She means what she says and is too stubborn not too stand behind it. But she also puts too much faith in authority figures. Sure it may have been dangerous to contact me, but she'll never have any idea how miserable that place I call home two months a year is. Those...those…people may not have laid a hand on me, but the emotional abuse and criminal negligence was another thing altogether. I would have killed myself this past summer if it had not been for the charity of Tonks and Remus, two of the more permanent figures from the Order on Privet Drive. They fed me when I was hungry and helped me when I needed it. But Hermione, Ron, Ginny, no one would ever understand that. None of them will understand just what it feels like to be truly alone. Even Tonks and Remus were risking their own necks to help me, as Dumbledore told them to keep their distance. But they put my well-being above their own, something no one had ever done for me before. Not even my "best" friends, who put Dumbledore's instructions above me. A long, hard road of repentance and confession lay ahead of them if they ever hoped to be what they once were to me. Noticing Ron's moodiness and Ginny's amorousness, I wasn't sure if that was a road they wanted to travel.

"My summer was fine, Hermione. The utterly complete isolation helped me so much."

Ron frowned, he knew there was something wrong with that answer, but he lacked the emotional faculties to work through it. Hermione must have missed the sarcasm though, as she appeared to be satisfied with my answer. Ginny just looked satisfied.

The carriage had come to a halt, and we filed out one by one. As I turned around to shut the door I heard an all too familiar voice.

"How's your dog doing, Scarhead?"

I turned towards Malfoy, with an anger I never felt before boiling up inside of me. I vaguely noticed a wind ruffling my hair, but putting it off as coincidence, I silenced Ron's retort with a wave of my hand and casually walked towards Malfoy. Before he knew what had happened, I had grabbed him around the throat and thrust my wand into his chest.

"Watch yourself Malfoy," I said quietly, aware everyone in the vicinity had their eyes turned on me, "You might just find I won't be taking your heavy handed attempts at humor this year."

I let go of the ferret, watching as he dropped to the ground in a dead faint. I turned to face the flabbergasted crowd behind me and said loudly, to no one in particular, "I'm starving, aren't you?"

Taking it as a dismissal, the crowd shuffled into the Great Hall, loud muttering being heard from everyone about what I just did. What did I care? I was Harry Potter, the Chosen One, these people were nothing compared to Voldemort. I couldn't afford to care about anyone else, could I? Any distraction is a bad distraction with a Dark Lord on the loose, a Dark Lord whose defeat rested solely on my shoulders.

Now listen my students and you will hear,

A midnight tale of what you should fear,

On the 21st of June, in '94,

One can hardly remain lost in lore,

If they wish to hear my tale.

The Dark Lord Voldemort rose that night,

You wouldn't believe the terrible sight,

Our hero and savior he did attempt to kill

But he underestimated our Chosen One's skill

And he is the subject of my yarn.

Child of stories, subject of books,

He had proven that he was not just for looks,

He fought the Dark Lord to the death,

And with his remaining breath,

He returned to us, and did not fail.

A year and a day he was ignored,

Although he had implored,

That those in power should act,

But they did not, and that's a fact,

For the Dark Lord had become greater and more terrible than before.

But now is the time, the time to make haste

Before the Dark Lord lays our world to waste,

We have no time, no window to wait,

For we must do something before it is too late.

Otherwise Hogwarts shall not be safe.

Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor!

A call to arms, to unite, become one.

Before the Dark Lord makes us no more.

And now before all is said and done,

Let the Sorting begin, step up, find your place.

"Has the Sorting Hat ever told a story before?" asked Neville, who was on my left.

"In Hogwarts, A History there was a note saying that for 438 consecutive years the Hat told a story about the Founders and how they related to their houses," said Hermione, still able to remember every page of that book.

"Yeah but they're dead," I said, musing aloud. "Perhaps that means I'll be dying this year?"

"Harry…" started Hermione, but she was interrupted by that familiar voice again.

"Even the Sorting Hat is a fan of yours Potter!" quipped Malfoy.

I withdrew my wand from my robes and stood up to face Malfoy, my hand steady, wand pointed directly at him.

"What's that Draco? I didn't quite hear you."

"SIT DOWN POTTER!" bellowed Snape from the head table, anger etched in every inch of his sallow face.

"Make me," I said, sticking my tongue out for effect, still holding my wand on Draco.

"Professor Snape, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Malfoy, would you please sit down? The start of term feast is no time for quarreling. All three of you will meet in my office once the feast is over, understood?"

I sat back down, tuning out Dumbledore's usual start of term announcements.

"Harry, what was that all about?" asked Dean, once Dumbledore had finished talking and the food appeared.

"I said I wasn't taking anymore of Malfoy's comments and quips this year, didn't I?" I replied, maybe with a bit more force than I had intended, as I realized that my mashed potatoes were beginning to bubble.

"Harry, how did you do that?" asked Hermione, sounding concerned.

"Do what?" I replied, picking up a dinner roll, attempting ignorance.

"Harry you know exactly what I'm talking about! Your mashed potatoes were bubbling, I saw them!" countered Hermione, practically jumping out of her seat.

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about Hermione, but I would greatly appreciate it if you would pass the gravy."

I was not in the mood to converse with anyone and all the people around me seemed to acknowledge that, talking around me, letting me eat in relative peace. The first real meal I've had in two months. Starvation does funny things to a person. Debilitating headaches, sleep deprivation, nutritional deficiencies, stunted growth, but as soon as that single morsel of food crosses your lips, you begin to improve. Eating the feast in front of me was like being reborn after the horrible summer. All too much work and not enough food.

Tonks was my lifeline. She brought me as much food as she could handle every time she had to watch me. Even if it was in the middle of the night, she always brought something. Remus was my teacher. He taught me to control my mind and focus my magic. Tonks taught me how to use my body and magic as a weapon, Remus taught me how to focus those weapons into an ungodly force. Apparently I'm a very powerful wizard. Who would have guessed? Not I for one. Surely not Tommy either. Dumbledore did. Dumbledore knew exactly what he was doing the night he put me on the Dursleys doorstep. Magic is similar to your muscles. The less you use it, the weaker it is. But also like muscles, some are born stronger than others; some much stronger than others.

"How was your summer mate?" asked Ron.

"Oh you know, more of the same. My life and wellbeing in danger daily, neglect, training, fun stuff," I said, perhaps a bit more rough than I had intended, but my summer was not a topic I wanted to talk about, "how was yours mate?"

"What's up Harry? How was your summer really?"

"Really Ron it wasn't too bad," I replied, avoiding his eyes, hoping he wouldn't see through the lie, "it was like most summers at the Dursley's, boring and fever inducing."

"You mean like that phrase Muggles use, 'cabin fever'?"

"Yes, of course," I said, hoping this passed for sincerity, "How was yours, Ron?"

Hurriedly swallowing a mouthful of potatoes, he launched into a longwinded diatribe about a Cannons game he saw at the beginning of August. Only half listening, I continued to methodically chew my food, taking in the sights and sounds of the raucous feast around me.

"Hey Harry," said Ginny, who was sitting across from me, "what happened to your glasses?"

I turned to look at Ginny, setting down my knife and fork. I briefly paused to contemplate how little I actually knew about the youngest Weasley, perhaps there was something there that I would appreciate having in a partner. Then again, maybe not, I thought as I looked at her. I couldn't deny that she was attractive, but the staring and lip licking was very unbecoming.

"I found a spell this summer that would fix my myopia and had Remus perform it for me," I said, giving her a small smile.

"Oh yeah?" she said, giving me a vapid smile. I swore she was hungrier looking at me than at the food on her plate.

"How was your summer?"

"Oh you know, the usual," she said, giggling and tossing her hair, "do you like broom closets Harry?" she asked, dropping a not so subtle hint.

"They're my favorite places, now that you mention it," I sighed, turning back to my food. Watching her continue to peer at me through her lashes, in what I imagine she hoped was an appealing manner. It made her look vaguely cross-eyed.

"Mine too, Harry," she said, in a breathy voice that made her sound like a prepubescent child.

"I'm glad we're on the same page," I said turning back to my food. After a brief moment she was engaged in a giggly conversation with Lavender about something or another. Probably me. Looking back at the food on my plate, I continued to contemplate the coming weeks and the past months. Tough times behind me, even tougher times ahead. There's that phrase, "what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger." If that saying holds true then the Dursleys have made me as strong as the hardest diamond.

Snapping out my reverie, I realized the feast was over. I saw Dumbledore at the staff table, conversing with McGonagall. He looked at me and nodded, so I stood up, wanting to make my way to the Headmaster's Office alone.

"Harry, may I ask why drew your wand on Mr. Malfoy?" asked Dumbledore, that eerie sense of calm that always emanated from him still continuing to do so.

"His blunt and terrible sense of humor is not appreciated," I replied, casually buffing my nails on my robes.

"You're just as arrogant as…" started Snape, before he was cut off by the Headmaster.

"Severus! Please! This will help nothing."

"Yeah Sevvy, do as you're told," I said, sneering right in Snape's greasy face.

"Harry, please, no more of this. In these troubled times…"

I cut off the Headmaster, having no wish to hear his speech about unity and all that at the moment. After what happened the past two months, a show of solidarity was beyond my grasp.

"No more of my actions? What about his actions?" I asked, gesturing towards Snape, "What about his actions of the past five years? How's that for showing a unified front? A student being subjected to insults and belittling simply for the fact that he happens to look like his father?"

"Headmaster, are you going to let this impudent little brat speak to me that way?" said Snape, who had turned a lovely shade of extra-sallow.

"Severus, why don't you and Mr. Malfoy," said Dumbledore, gesturing towards him and the forgotten blonde, "head back for the night. We can handle these issues at a different time. I'd just like a few words with Harry and then we can all turn-in for the night."

"But Headmaster…"

"Severus, please, tomorrow."

"Yes, Albus," said Snape, turning towards the door with a swish of his robes and one last malevolent glance towards me, "Come Draco."

Malfoy turned to follow Snape out the door, sneering at me all the while, slamming it behind him.

"Harry," started Dumbledore, "I know that it is getting late and you've had a long day, but there are a few things I'd like to discuss briefly. Please, take a seat."

Settling into one his characteristic squishy purple armchairs, I sat back and waited for the Headmaster to question me, lecture me, and make me roll my eyes; most likely in that order.

"I hope you had a good summer, Harry, and I'm sorry that I wasn't able to do more to make life a little more comfortable for you," started Dumbledore, making me roll my eyes first of all.

"It was a wonderful summer Professor, I discovered a wonderful new forced starvation diet, perhaps I should write a book and make millions in the Muggle world?"

"What happened to you this summer, Harry? What could have possibly adversely affected you so much as compared to other summers?"

And so began the series of questions.

"Are you telling me that the Order presence at Privet Drive really doesn't do very much?" I questioned Dumbledore, already knowing the answer, Remus having explained it to me after one particularly grueling week back from Hogwarts.

"We can't see inside the house, Harry, that's what your relatives are for," replied Dumbledore, serenely, as if this was the most obvious question in the world, "the guard there is simply there for the purposes of alerting you and any others who might be in danger of a Death Eater appearance on Privet Drive."

"Then your Order has failed hasn't it? I wasn't protected at all. I was in more danger from those inside the house than those outside of it, wasn't I?"

"Harry, I know you and your relatives don't get along all that great, but…"

"No, Headmaster, there are no 'buts', I don't like them and they'd rather I crawled up in the gutter and died."

"Don't you think you're being a tad extreme?"

"No I am not, you will never be able to understand what I have been subjected to, having lived there for 15 years. This summer," I paused, taking a breath, "this summer was it Headmaster, no longer can I be subjected to that. You have no idea how close I was to dying this summer, do you? Have you ever gone two weeks without eating, sir?"

"No I have not."

I took a deep breath, I didn't want to relive the memories yet, especially in front of the Headmaster. He deserved to know, yes. He deserved to be tormented by the thoughts of what happened to me just as I am tormented by them now. Tonight was not the night, though, he wouldn't have believed me.

"Harry?"

"Yes, Professor?"

"Why didn't you tell anyone? Your messages said you were fine."

"I was assured that being inside of that house was the safest place for me to be," and with that sentiment, I turned and walked quickly out of the office, leaving a dumbstruck Headmaster in my wake.

I walked swiftly back towards Gryffindor Tower, wishing to collapse into bed as soon as possible. Unfortunately, this was not to be, as I had run headlong into a feminine form.

"Excuse me," I said politely, pausing to steady myself and her.

"Do watch where you're going, Potter," said her cold voice.

Staring into those violet eyes, eyes that every male in Hogwarts were enchanted by yet afraid to approach because they came with the risk of castration, I risked my future children in responding to her.

"As you wish, my queen," I said, with an over exaggerated bow.

I looked at her, hoping for any sort of response. A wink, a smile, a giggle, any kind of response. I was Harry Potter after all; the only people that didn't respond to me were either dead or Muggle. I most definitely hoped that this person in front of me was neither, as that would mean something had gone very wrong in the sending of a Hogwarts letter this year. And the past five. I continued to look at her, awaiting her response.

"I'll let that one slide, but don't test your luck again," she said, turning to leave.

Very disappointing, I must admit.

"What are you doing out this late anyway? It's past curfew."

"None of your damn business, Potter. Now if you refuse to stop your incessant questioning, I shall have to reconsider my offer of letting your cheek go unpunished."

"By all means, Ms. Greengrass," I replied, gesturing down the corridor.

There was something about that Slytherin I had to admit, as I watched her wavy blue-black hair and shapely figure move away down the hall from me.

"You better not be looking at me," said a distant voice.

Smiling, I continued on my way to the dormitory, and hopefully bed, as long as the future didn't hold anymore Slytherins in my path.

"What did Dumbledore have to say?" Ron asked, his sleepy voice drifting out from behind his bed curtains as I stepped into the dormitory.

I paused for a second to consider my answer, deciding how much to reveal to him.

"Oh you know the usual: 'We all need to work together in these troubled times…violence is not the answer...it's time to put all our difference and preconceived notions behind us'… the typical Dumbledore stuff."

"Work with Malfoy? Ha, right. Next time he'll be saying that we need to start keeping blast-ended skrewts as pets. He's brilliant, but he's too short-sighted to see past the end of his crooked nose," Ron said, with much more insight than was normal for him.

"Are you ok, Ron? That was much more insightful than everything I've ever heard you say the past five years."

"I'm fine, Harry, I've just been thinking. Are you fine? It seems like you're hiding something."

Thinking about the past summer and even what happened tonight, I was lucky that Ron was unable to see my grimace.

"No Ron, I've told you everything. Nothing really happened this summer."

"I'm really sorry that I didn't write to you, Harry. Dumbledore's orders and all that. If Dumbledore wants something done, you don't really go against it."

I could not help the flaring of my anger and magic upon hearing that statement. So what Dumbledore wanted was more important than my wellbeing, and even more importantly, our friendship? Ron was a coward, I had known this, but he was always a loyal coward. Apparently I could not hope to compete with Dumbledore for Ron's loyalties.

I moved towards my bed, wanting nothing more to sleep on a comfortable mattress for the first time in two months when I heard Ron's muffled voice one more time.

"Harry, is it just me or has it gotten really hot in here?"

With some effort I reined in the magic that had flared in hearing Ron's declaration of loyalty. I was going to have to watch that. Only two other people in the world knew just how powerful I was, neither of them were Voldemort or Dumbledore, and I wanted to keep it that way.

"You're probably just sleepy, Ron."

Hearing gentle snoring coming from the bed across from mine, I knew that he had already dropped off. I quickly stripped off my clothes in order to do the same. As I waited for sleep to overtake me, my sleepy thoughts were once again filled with images of Sirius, glass balls, and Privet Drive. But there was something else this time as well. A pair of violet eyes had managed to infiltrate my thoughts before I fell into a satisfying slumber.

A/N: Well there you have it, the first chapter. What did everyone think? I'll try to keep updates weekly, but I can't promise that. If you have a question or suggestion in regards to the story just leave me a review and I'll try and get back to you. I have big plans for this story and I hope everyone sticks around for the ride.