A/N: Ian S has decided to defy various writers to write a story in which the beloved, to some, Harry Potter turns evil. Apparently, in his opinion, there aren't enough fanfics focusing on this. Here you go, Ian.

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling. I do not own any of the below mentioned characters.

Reviews: Widely welcome. This includes constructive criticism.



"Ron?"

"Harry? What is it?"

"Are you awake?"

A low groan was heard from the bed beside his, "Well, I am now."

Normally Harry would have chuckled at this, but the intense burning of the scar on his forehead stopped him.

He was about to open his mouth and spill out his thoughts and the dream that was haunting him, but at the sound of Ron's snores his mouth quickly closed and he drew in a long breath of air.

"It's no big deal anyway. You'd only make yourself out to be a wuss." He thought, silently, to himself.

Beginning to feel grateful for his friend's tiredness and short attention span, he rolled over in the cot and fell asleep watching the Chudley Cannons doze off on their broomsticks, forgetting the dream in which had caused him to awake in terror.

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The dark haired wizard would have slept through the entire day if the hand of his freckled face friend hadn't shaken him awake.

Taking a bite from one of the biscuits his mother had baked earlier that morning, he stared into the somewhat troubled eyes of his friend. "'Arry?"

Harry pulled at the cotton blanket he'd been sleeping under and closed his eyes again. "What time is it?"

Ron scratched his head, straightening and pulling at the short sleeves of his maroon sweater and swallowing the biscuit in his mouth, "It's past lunch. Mum's becoming mighty worried. She figured I should wake you."

Harry's eyes shot open and he threw the blanket off, exposing the large flannel pajamas he was wearing, tied at the waist to keep them from falling down. They had once belonged to his overweight cousin, Dudley, but now that he was the size of a small whale they no longer fit and had been passed down to Harry.

"You let me sleep to lunch?"

Ron took another bite of the biscuit, chewing thoughtfully before he answered, taken back by his friend's alarm. "Well, yes."

Harry rolled his eyes and lifted the pajama top above his head, exposing the chest of a scrawny young fifteen year old.

That was not what caused Ron's startle, it was the long bloody gash on his friend's side that caused him to jump.

"H- H- Harry.." Ron said, his mouth falling open, exposing the remains of the biscuit he had just popped into his mouth.

Harry looked at his friend with amusement, wondering if there was a spider on the window ledge behind him. Realizing that Ron's shaking hand was now pointing at his side, Harry looked down and began to panic himself.

"Where in bloody hell did that come from?"

"You bloody well 'ought to know!"

The sweet, yet slightly irking voice of Mrs. Weasley floated up the stairs, interrupting them both. "Harry, dear, are you awake?"

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley," he shouted pulling the pajama top back over his torso to hide the cut. Stepping out into the corridor, Harry made his way to the top of the staircase, looking down at the plump figure of his best friend's mother.

"I assume you had a nice sleep," She said, turning back towards the kitchen. "I'd suggest you hurry and get dressed, Remus will be here soon."

"Remus?" Harry said, momentarily forgetting the cut on his side.

"Yes, dear. He wants to speak with you." Her voice took a slightly sharper edge. "Of course I don't understand what would be important enough to interrupt your vacation with but not to tell myself of."

Slightly confused, Harry made his way back to Ron's room, where the red head still stood gaping.

"Ron, shove off."

"Harry, finding a piece of yourself opened up and bloodied isn't something you normally scoff at."

"One of the gnomes probably knicked me with a stick from your bushes yesterday. I guess I was too busy to notice. It's no big deal." The explanation was rushed, and both knew it was completely false.

Ron wasn't at all satisfied, but eager to leave the room before Harry began to undress again.

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"Hello, Remus."

His previous Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, much too willingly, tore his eyes from the photo album in Mrs. Wesley's hand and fixed them on Harry, now fully dressed in a pair of large blue jeans, held up by a black belt, and the green sweater Mrs. Weasley had knit him the Christmas before.

Mrs. Weasley frowned at Remus and dropped the album on the maroon couch, leaving in a huff to the kitchen.

"What's wrong with her?" Asked Harry with a raised eyebrow in Mrs. Wesley's direction.

"She's upset over the fact that I won't tell her what I'm here to discuss with you," He motioned for his former student to sit beside him.

Once Harry had settled himself against the worn cushions, he began.

"You of course understand that You-Know-Who has returned more powerful than ever?"

With a reluctant sigh, Harry nodded, remembering the events of last term. "You can say his name, Remus."

"Well, it seems he's found a new colleague." Remus sat back against the couch, flattening his green robes. "A very dangerous colleague."

"Who?" Harry asked, his eyes widening. Voldemort was of every concern to Harry, since it seemed he would like nothing better than to finally kill the young Potter.

"That's the problem, we don't know who. A muggle family, just last night, reported seeing a snakelike man, Voldemort, and a smaller hooded figure, emitting a strong green light from a wand as they walked. Afterwards they found their neighborhood to be in ruins. It was a horrid event, the ministry is up in arms trying to straighten out what happened, since they still refuse to believe Voldemort has returned."

"Isn't it just another Death Eater?"

"From the reported incidents we've received, it doesn't seem so. He's just as powerful as Voldemort," At this Remus stopped and locked eyes with Harry. "If not more."

Harry, trying desperately to take the information in, looked at the friend of his deceased father with questioning eyes. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Voldemort has tried many times to harm you, Harry, and with such a powerful new affiliate, he's sure to try again. Dumbledore, Sirius, and I think it would be best for you to return to the Dursley's for the remainder of your vacation."

Harry gaped at the man sitting beside him. "I'd be more safe with a family of muggles who wouldn't think twice of handing me over to the likes of Voldemort?"

Remus nodded, with a slight smile. "Believe it or not, Harry, it's true."

Harry's face began to redden and his hands clench into fists, but his voice remained calm, although with notable strain. "I will not be going back to the Dursley's."

Remus shook his head as Mrs. Weasley came back into the room, setting a silver platter of her freshly baked biscuits on the rickety coffee table in front of them, shoving aside several of Fred and George's Cockroach Clusters.

Smiling politely and scarfing down a biscuit at the rate only a werewolf could manage, Remus stood up and shared one final glance with Harry who sat motionless and brooding.

"I trust you'll find a way home for Harry." He said, addressing Mrs. Weasley. "He should return no sooner than tonight. Thank you for your hospitality," And with that Remus was gone, having apparated back to where he came from.

Mrs. Weasley looked down upon Harry, concern plastered across her face, "Home? Is something the matter Harry?"

"Yes, those who've put themselves in charge of my safety are all crackpots."

Mrs. Weasley frowned at him and patted his shoulder. "I'm sure they're only doing what they think is in your best interest, Harry."

With a long sigh, Harry placed his teenage, acne scarred face into his hands and muttered darkly, "I know."