A/N: First things first I want to you so much for your feedback, it's incredible helpful and much appreciated.

Second, I want to apologise. Just after posting the first chapter I unexpectedly got a job and since then I've barely had time to breathe and it's been nearly impossible to find the time and energy for writing.

On top of that, I decided that the chapters I had already written needed rewriting, I had over 20 pages written for this and thought I would be nice and on top of things, but to be honest it was just pages and pages of pure crap so I scrapped it all and started again, and while I'm still not really happy, it's better than it was.

Chapter 2

Harry felt as though he had been kissed by a Dementor, he was drowning in his worst memories and he felt empty, lost and weightless.

"Kill the spare!" Harry was forced to watch as the flash of green engulfed Cedric, leaving behind his still corpse. It was a scene that haunted his dreams every night and seemed engraved forever on the back of his eyelids.

"CEDRIC!" The scream tore from Harry's throat yet no sound reached his ears, his vocal cords strained and scratched but no noise erupted. He tried running forward instead, towards the murdered boy, but his limbs wouldn't respond; that wasn't right, Harry didn't remember being hit by an impedimenta that night.

Without warning the scene changed, and with a sensation not dissimilar to a portkey, Harry was snatched away. He found himself this time surrounded not by Death Eaters, but fire; he was facing the possessed Quirrell. The Philosophers stone was clutched tightly in his hand and he could do nothing but watch as the man lunged for him and his limbs once again stuck still.

Opening his eyes without realising he had even closed them, Harry let out a soundless cry as he was confronted by the 11-year-old, lifeless body of Ginny Weasley.

He was in the chamber; the basilisk hadn't yet appeared but Harry knew that if he turned his head to the left he would see the young, smirking face of Riddle. The psychotic teen should have been miles away in likeness to the creature Harry had seen resurrected in the graveyard, but somehow Harry felt there was very little to distinguish them. The pure evil lurking in Riddles eyes would never change.

As Riddle's laugh reverberated around the room, Harry once more attempted to push his limbs forward. His desperation was not only to get to Ginny, but also to get away from Voldemort.

Tears burned their way down his cheeks as his desperation mounted. He was moving, but not fast enough. It was like moving through water, but harder; there was an impossible force working against him. He was getting closer every second, if he could just reach her, he could save her. He could save them all.

Just as his fingers finally made contact with Ginny's cold body, Harry was ripped away into a crushing darkness.

He was enclosed by something more than utter blackness. Nothingness. It was as though the world had no up or down, left or right, here nor there. His ears were ringing, everything about the situation was disorientating.

Harry was reminded of the time he had been in Quidditch practice, and a shout from Wood had distracted him just as a Bludger was accidentally hit in his direction by Fred and George. The resulting impact had left his skull pounding and ringing, and the voices of his team mates sounding distant.

Harry tried to move, to orientate himself in the muffled darkness. He couldn't tell if he had been successful or not, and in all honestly it made Harry question whether or not he even had limbs at all.

A scream tore through the darkness and despite being somewhat dampened and distant, it instantly cut at Harry. It was a woman's scream, and it was all to sickeningly familiar. The chill that ran through Harry and the way his heart clenched convinced him he must still have a body, and he redoubled his efforts to move it.

He pushed and he pushed, the ringing in his head had reached an unbearable level but not even for a second did he allow himself to let up. She was dying. His mum was dying and he couldn't get her. She was dying because of him.

"Please, not Harry!" She was further away and Harry almost cried in frustration. He was moving towards her, at least he was trying; how could she be further away?

Harry tried screaming for her, tried to warn her. He wanted to tell her to just run.

Of course, nothing happened. As always, Harry was powerless.

He was failing her, just as he had Cedric and just as he surely would everyone else. Because of him everyone he cared for, and many more, would end up hurt. He wasn't good enough, fast enough, smart enough or strong enough. No matter how hard he tried he just wasn't enough.

The world once again changed around him. Harry wanted it to be over.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, feeling broken and paying no mind to the fact he once more had a voice, and apparently full control over his body. Instead he just buried his head into his drawn-up knees and sobbed silently, knowing it was too late to save him mum by now.

An icy draft bit at Harry's bare ankles and he shivered against the cold. He lifted his head, almost afraid of what he's be confronted with next.

Rather than some grizzly, traumatising scene from Harry's past, the only thing Harry noted was that he was now no longer surrounded by utter darkness. There was enough light filtering through the door for him to make out his cupboard under the stairs.

Harry's teeth chattered as another frigid breeze whistled through the bottom of the door, the moon light that managed to break through the cracks served only to make the small space seem icier.

It forcibly reminded Harry of the many winters he'd spent alone and freezing in his cupboard while his relatives slept soundly upstairs, content to forget their despised nephew's existence.

The cold would ache his bones, the thin threadbare blanket he had slept under didn't even come close to offering protection from the gnawing air.

Harry curled into himself tighter in an effort to keep some warmth in his trembling body and tried to figure out why he was here.

"IT'S CHRISTMAS!" The sudden joyous screech from above caused Harry to jolt from his ball as he realised which memory this was. He was shocked, it was one that until this moment he scarcely remembered.

"MUMMY! DADDY! WAKE UP, IT'S CHRISTMAS!" Dudley's young voice almost sounded innocent to Harry.

There was the slam of doors then his cousin's footsteps appeared above him as he stampeded down the stairs, and Harry heard his aunt follow quickly after. She was humming a cheerful tune as she trotted passed Harry's door and into the living room where her whale of a son was already ripping into his presents, she was obviously more than prepared for Dudley's 5 o'clock wake up.

Harry and Dudley couldn't have been more than four at the time and it was the first-time Harry had noticed that not a single present under the tree had been addressed to him.

He remembered vividly now that Christmas eve. He and Dudley had excitedly counted the mountain of gifts beneath the Christmas tree and upon his realisation that none seemed to be for him, Harry had naïvely turned to Dudley and told him without doubt that there must surely have been a mistake, some of the presents must have been his.

His cousin's reaction had been instant and furious; he shoved Harry to the floor and ran wailing to his parents, the tails he was spinning to them likely as fake as his crocodile tears.

Harry however had merely stood himself back up and stood tall and sure, knowing he must be right and certain his aunt and uncle would agree. After all, how could Harry have no presents?

Of course, they hadn't agreed with him, not at all. Looking back now, it was obvious that they wouldn't, but at the time Harry had been confused and putting it simply, heartbroken by their reactions.

They had been livid, and that was putting it lightly. Uncle Vernon had clouted him hard around the head, and Aunt Petunia had stormed up to him with a look of hate on her face and taken him by the shoulders. Her bony fingers bruising, as she shook him so hard he was sure his already throbbing head would fall right off. All the while she had been spitting a biting torrent of abuse, calling him an unwanted and nasty little boy.

Harry had then been thrown unceremoniously into his cupboard, where he had been left for the first time without proper food.

That was the moment Harry found himself in now.

The sounds of his family enjoying their Christmas without even a thought to him had disguised the sound of Harry's sobs. He remembered the emotions that had overwhelmed him on this long-forgotten Christmas.

The feeling of being alone and unloved, and more than that, the feeling of being hated by the only 'family' he had.

Harry recalled the wish he had made that day as he cried to himself. The one thing he wanted most.

His family.

The climb back to consciousness was slow and painstaking, spears of light set his head on fire and the way the whole world seemed to spin felt worse than any rough, storm ridden sea ever possibly could. He groaned as he fought the churning in his stomach.

Harry struggled to grasp a clear thought through the heavy haze that was his mind. His body was locked in a battle, simultaneously numb and alight; and despite being fairly certain he wasn't moving, Harry felt as though he was hurtling through the air on a broom that was spinning widely out of control.

"Shh, shh." Harry felt a warm weight land on his shoulder, squeezing gently and realised somewhat distantly that he had been making pained noises.

"Can you open your eyes, Harry?" A voice washed over him, it was calming but alert and wary. Harry did his very best to obey, focusing all his efforts on lifting his lids, but it was difficult; it was as if a hippogrith had sorely taken offence to his head and was currently stomping it in a fit of rage. He felt sick and confused, and ever so slightly soggy…

"Prof'ss'r?" Harry moaned, his throat was scratched and raw and his tongue just wouldn't co-operate. The darkness was disorientating, if only he could open his eyes.

There was a squelch of leaves as the man shifted somewhere to his right and another warm hand made contact with Harry, this time it ghosted across his cheek, almost cupping it. Harry saw movement across the darkness and he realised in a muddle that his eyes where already open.

Lupin's form was a darkened silhouette above him. The world was seemingly devoid of light, and Harry wasn't even sure if he was wearing glasses or not; regardless he shifted his head ever so slightly in an attempt to make sense of his surroundings.

Vaguely he could see figures surrounding them, they were everywhere; rows and rows of them, and they seemed to loom impossibly high. Too high.

"Sit up, come on. We may not have long." Lupin shifted again and before Harry could protest two strong hands carefully pulled him up so he was sitting.

"I'm sorry, Harry." Lupin said as Harry's world pitched and he had to close his eyes in an attempt not to vomit.

Harry swallowed something that tasted worryingly acidic. "Where'r we?" he groaned.

"Not sure, but we have to move. It's not safe." Lupin vanished from his side, and Harry felt suddenly vulnerable.

He looked about as best he could to try see where the man had disappeared to, cautious of the pain in the base of his skull.

The world around him still wasn't quite as stationary as Harry would have liked it to be, but he was feeling slightly more aware now. Squinting through the dark, Harry once more took note of the looming figures and realised that they weren't figures at all… at least not human ones. They were trees.

"Lupin?" Harry tried to call, his voice was still hoarse and gritty so it came out sounding more like a groan than anything else, but he was sure the man got the gist of it.

"Quiet, Harry. We must be quiet." Came the hushed but stern reply.

Harry looked towards the voice, spotting the man to his right. He was crouched over something large and Harry couldn't tell what it was in the dark, but Lupin's arms were moving frantically about and he was mumbling almost silently.

A few moments passed before the man stood once more, moving the few feet back to Harry.

"How's your head?" He asked when he was close enough to kneel beside him once more.

"S'good" Harry slurred, trying to give the professor a reassuring smile. The look on Lupin's face however, told Harry it might not have been as successful and he wanted it to be.

"Come on, there's a small cave just a few minutes away." Without much more warning, Harry was lugged to his feet. The harsh movement once again making his head spin and his stomach roll, he would have gone straight back on his face were it not for the strong hands gripping him.

"Merlin's balls…" Harry cursed. He wasn't usually one for swearing, Ron did so much of it after all that Harry felt there was usually no point but the world seemed to be doing somersaults, and it left Harry feeling more shook up than Hermione had been the time he had attempted the Wronski Feint.

"Yes, quite." Lupin said in reply and Harry swore he could hear a smile in the man's voice, it was certainty the lightest he'd heard it so far.

"We really need to get somewhere sheltered, quickly." Lupin added, voice once again all business as he wrapped his arm around Harry's waist and started forward. The pace was far too quick for Harry's wobbly legs.

Harry willed himself to find some steadiness, both in his legs and his head. The last thing he wanted was to vomit on Lupin's shoes, then take a nose dive into it.

Fighting the pain, Harry lifted his head, squinting into the darkness as they moved amongst the trees.

"What happened?" Harry asked, his mind still felt sluggish.

"I don't know" Lupin answered, serious as ever. Despite practically carrying Harry, he didn't sound much out of breath. "Something in the ministry… it was a trap." He shook his head at his lack of knowledge.

Ministry… Harry was sure he could remember something about the ministry but he couldn't be sure. His mind couldn't seem to settle on a clear thought.

"This is probably a trap as well…" The man carried on, startling Harry somewhat, who was becoming slightly lost in his mental efforts. "If we can get to the cave it will offer us some protection, I know these woods, that's at least something to our advantage." He paused for a moment. "Then I'll go back for Sirius."

"Sirius!" Now that was something Harry could understand. His exclamation gained him a solid 'shush!' from the older man but Harry couldn't bring himself to care as his mind suddenly jumped back to the dark shape Lupin had been kneeling over.

"Sirius. Where is he?" Harry tried keeping his voice low but he couldn't say if he had been successful or not.

"Back there, I couldn't wake him." Lupin said, his voice a forced even.

"We can't leave him!" Harry snapped, pulling against the man. His head was banging, and it only seemed to get worse the more he stressed but that didn't matter, Sirius mattered.

"Calm down Harry, and please be quiet!" Lupin pressed, sounding almost as harsh as Harry had ever heard him.

"But…" Harry once more tried tugging against the arms holding him but they didn't budge, Lupin merely marched on, seemingly paying him little attention.

"I couldn't wake him and I couldn't very well carry both of you, I don't have my wand" Lupin interrupted Harry before he could say any more. "The faster I get you up here, the faster I can get back to Sirius."

Harry wanted to argue further, he wanted to know if Sirius was alright at the very least, but perhaps Lupin was right, and if this was a trap he didn't want to draw any attention to Sirius' prone form. Instead he focused on putting one foot in front of the other, that alone was enough of a challenge right now.

Nothing about this situation was good and he really didn't like leaving Sirius, but Harry was having way too much trouble trying to figure anything out currently

After only a minute or so, Lupin slowed and Harry was silently thankful for it. The wood around them was still dark and muted, their feet making the only noise as they shuffled through rain sodden leaves. It really was a terribly dark night; there was barely any moon light here and Harry had to struggle to make out his surroundings. He had been putting his faith into Lupin completely; hoping the werewolf wouldn't accidentally walk them into a tree; his head was hurting enough already, thanks.

They had been standing in the same spot for nearly 30 seconds, Lupin seemed to be squinting just as much as he was, looking back and forth from where they stood.

"That's… that's not right…" He muttered, mostly to himself. Harry wasn't sure he could stand on his own and so he was glad when Lupin took his time carefully lowering him to the floor before moving away.

Harry's eyes struggled to adjust as he watched the man walk a few steps, stopping at an ancient looking tree, even in the dark Harry could make out its unusual shape; a mix of low and high branches and the way it tilted reminded Harry of the frozen Whomping Willow somewhat, as if someone had pressed a knot and suspended it in place.

The moments dragged on. Harry didn't say anything, although personally he thought there was more important things to be doing than hugging a tree, like getting Sirius' apparently unconscious body from the middle of a forest; but Harry told himself to trust the man, Lupin was a great DADA professor, the best they'd ever had; surely he knew what he was doing. Besides, thinking was getting harder and harder.

"This tree… it's not right" Lupin muttered, his voice sounding loud in the still. Harry shifted, the damp ground wasn't all that comfortable and his sickness seemed to be growing.

"Why? What's wrong with it?" Harry asked, feeling sleepier by the second. "Are we lost?" He said suddenly, to hazy to be truly panicked.

Lupin seemed to shake himself from wherever his thoughts had taken him and half jogged back to Harry. "No, the cave is just here" He waved to some point over his shoulder as he once more hefted Harry to his feet, eliciting the usually groans and curses from the boy.

Walking them quickly towards the cave, Harry could feel his limbs growing heavier, his only thought now being sleep.

"I've used these woods for transformations ever since I was a boy." Lupin's soft voice washed over Harry as he felt himself being laid down, something soft placed under his head to cushion it against the harsh ground.

"So whats'rong with'e tree then?" Harry slurred as he dozed further.

Lupin's unusual reply was one that Harry would later blame on the concussion.

"It's just strange..." Lupin said. "That tree was cut down years ago."