Title: The Remedy
Author: Devonny Rose
Rating: PG-13 (just in case)
Spoilers: All five books, including QTTA and FB+WTFT
A/N: Okay, I finished reading 'Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix' awhile ago and it is the BEST BOOK EVER! I can't wait until the next one comes out. Of course, it will probably be awhile. So I am contenting myself with writing my own version of the Sixth Book. Or, at least, the summer before sixth year (so far *wink*)
On another note, I just want to say I am very, very, very, VERY upset that Sirius died. He was the best! Poor, poor Padfoot (not you, Xirb!)
Also, I'll have to correct what I say about Harry/Ginny relationships. It seems J.K.R. is headed that way. Uggg. At least, the way she writes doesn't involve Harry going to the Burrow and seeing Ginny 'all grown up' and falling madly in love with her. Those bug me!
I still despise H/G fics, though.
Also, in relation to my other stories, I've been having trouble writing them lately because of all the plot ideas bouncing around my head. I'm hoping that this will clear up that matter, so I can get back to writing them. As for when I will update this fic, I solemnly swear on my writing ability (or lack thereof) that I will update this once a week. If not, I give you permission to do let Xirb and Per do something horrible to me. *whimpers*
Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. The plot is mine. Sort of. You know what I mean. This is fanfiction, I don't own it. Furthermore, I do not own any of the songs quoted in this fic.
On to the story then......
CH1: Who I Am
"And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming,
All the moments of truth in your lies,
When everything feels like the movies,
Yeah, you bleed just to know you're alive.
And I don't want the world to see me,
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand,
When everything's meant to be broken,
I just want you to know who I am."
June 29, 1996
Harry Potter lay sprawled out on his bed one lazy June day. He was bored. And depressed.
Why you may ask? Looking around his room, you would see many strange and unusual things most would love to fiddle around with. Stacked precautiously* on a small desk by the window, were piles of books with titles like: 'Quidditch Through The Ages' and 'A Compendium of Common Curses and Their Counter-Actions'. Next to the desk, on the floor, was an owl cage, complete with dozing snowy, white owl. A trunk over by the window stood open, robes, a caldron, and an amazingly designed broom were sticking out of it. And, strewn all around, were dozens of letters and newspaper articles, some even featuring the room's occupant on the cover. But Harry was too deep in thought again to care.
He was remembering the Department of Mysteries again. The room that would haunt his nightmares, the room where his godfather, Sirius Black, was murdered.
He couldn't forget about it. He didn't even cry over it. He hadn't really cried since he was four years old and his Uncle Vernon yelled at him. He wasn't about to restart now. But he could still blame himself.
Harry told himself it wasn't his fault. Dumbeldore told his it wasn't his fault - though, as Harry was still not speaking to the professor, his word didn't hold much water. Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, Lupin, Moody, Mundungus, Tonks, all of the rest of the Weasleys, even, Luna Lovegood had told him it hadn't been his fault, too. Harry's eyes strayed over to the pile of letters at the foot of his bed. He had only been home three days and already he had received more mail then all of his other summer breaks combined.
And, as expected, on the threats his friends had given the Dursleys, his aunt, uncle, and cousin had been treating him surprisingly nice (so far). Harry could eat what ever he wanted, as much as he wanted. Nobody bothered him to do chores. It was the best that the people of 4 Privet Drive had ever treated him.
But this really didn't cheer Harry up. No matter what he did, he couldn't get the events of last year out of his head. The way Sirius's face look as he was falling through that mysterious arc: laughter mixed with surprise. The memory of detentions with Professor Umbridge, possessions by Voldemort, new revelations about his father, and how wonderful it felt to attack Bellatrix Lestrange.
Bellatrix had murdered Sirius. Harry, in a fit of furious revenge, had ran after her when she tried to escape. And he had cast, or at least tried to cast, the Cruciatus on her.
That was one of the things Harry felt the most regret for doing. He had sunken to the level of a Death Eater - of Voldemort. He had caused another living thing pain and enjoyed it.
'She killed Sirius,' Harry always argued with himself. 'She deserves everything she got.' But then that nasty little voice in the back of his head would pipe up and return with, 'Yes, but according to Voldemort, every person he kills deserves it - even if it's just for being what they are.' Harry couldn't deny that.
It also didn't help he had more important matters to put his mind on. Like the prophecy, 'Neither can live while the other survives'. Harry would have to defeat Voldemort, he had always known that. Only now was the first time it really sunk in. To see it in writing like that....
Harry turned over as an owl with the Daily Prophet soared through his open window, followed by several more. This didn't shock him - almost everyday there was a mention of Harry in the newspaper (probably to make up for all the trouble it had caused him before) and he would receive letters upon letters from magical people around the world.
He went over, took the paper, and payed the owl. Harry glanced at the head line and started.
"PETER PETTIGREW ALIVE? SIRIUS BLACK INNOCENT?"
Harry looked at the picture below the caption. It was one of him, Sirius, and Lupin at number 12, Grimmauld Place that had been taken over the Christmas break. Sirius was sitting in an old chair against a dark green wall and he had his arm around Harry. Lupin stood in back with a hand on one of each of their shoulders. The three of them were laughing. Harry quickly scanned the picture, making sure that no one could figure out where they were, and found none. He sighed in relief - it would be dangerous to the Order if a Death Eater found out where they were staying.
He skimmed the article. It detailed a small attack on a Muggle village outside of London and the capture of several Death Eaters, including one Peter Pettigrew. But, at the end ....
'The Ministry promptly cleared Mr. Black of all charges, only to learn of his death a week prior.
'Mr. Black's assets (totaling 4.7 million Galleons, along with several different properties) will be split evenly between his best friend, Remus Lupin, and his godson, Harry Potter, both of whom were aware of his innocence.
'The story of Sirius Black should always be remembered. It is a sad time when the magical world makes such a horrible mistake, ruining the life of an honest, fun-loving man.
'Our hearts are with Mr. Black, wherever he is now, and with his friends and family. May this story have as happy of an ending as it can.'
Pettigrew was caught only a week after Sirius died.
'How ironic.'
Harry broke down in laughter on the floor. He laughed until he cried.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------
* = I think I made this word up. If anyone can tell me if this is a real word or not, leave it in a review please.
Author: Devonny Rose
Rating: PG-13 (just in case)
Spoilers: All five books, including QTTA and FB+WTFT
A/N: Okay, I finished reading 'Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix' awhile ago and it is the BEST BOOK EVER! I can't wait until the next one comes out. Of course, it will probably be awhile. So I am contenting myself with writing my own version of the Sixth Book. Or, at least, the summer before sixth year (so far *wink*)
On another note, I just want to say I am very, very, very, VERY upset that Sirius died. He was the best! Poor, poor Padfoot (not you, Xirb!)
Also, I'll have to correct what I say about Harry/Ginny relationships. It seems J.K.R. is headed that way. Uggg. At least, the way she writes doesn't involve Harry going to the Burrow and seeing Ginny 'all grown up' and falling madly in love with her. Those bug me!
I still despise H/G fics, though.
Also, in relation to my other stories, I've been having trouble writing them lately because of all the plot ideas bouncing around my head. I'm hoping that this will clear up that matter, so I can get back to writing them. As for when I will update this fic, I solemnly swear on my writing ability (or lack thereof) that I will update this once a week. If not, I give you permission to do let Xirb and Per do something horrible to me. *whimpers*
Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. The plot is mine. Sort of. You know what I mean. This is fanfiction, I don't own it. Furthermore, I do not own any of the songs quoted in this fic.
On to the story then......
CH1: Who I Am
"And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming,
All the moments of truth in your lies,
When everything feels like the movies,
Yeah, you bleed just to know you're alive.
And I don't want the world to see me,
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand,
When everything's meant to be broken,
I just want you to know who I am."
June 29, 1996
Harry Potter lay sprawled out on his bed one lazy June day. He was bored. And depressed.
Why you may ask? Looking around his room, you would see many strange and unusual things most would love to fiddle around with. Stacked precautiously* on a small desk by the window, were piles of books with titles like: 'Quidditch Through The Ages' and 'A Compendium of Common Curses and Their Counter-Actions'. Next to the desk, on the floor, was an owl cage, complete with dozing snowy, white owl. A trunk over by the window stood open, robes, a caldron, and an amazingly designed broom were sticking out of it. And, strewn all around, were dozens of letters and newspaper articles, some even featuring the room's occupant on the cover. But Harry was too deep in thought again to care.
He was remembering the Department of Mysteries again. The room that would haunt his nightmares, the room where his godfather, Sirius Black, was murdered.
He couldn't forget about it. He didn't even cry over it. He hadn't really cried since he was four years old and his Uncle Vernon yelled at him. He wasn't about to restart now. But he could still blame himself.
Harry told himself it wasn't his fault. Dumbeldore told his it wasn't his fault - though, as Harry was still not speaking to the professor, his word didn't hold much water. Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, Lupin, Moody, Mundungus, Tonks, all of the rest of the Weasleys, even, Luna Lovegood had told him it hadn't been his fault, too. Harry's eyes strayed over to the pile of letters at the foot of his bed. He had only been home three days and already he had received more mail then all of his other summer breaks combined.
And, as expected, on the threats his friends had given the Dursleys, his aunt, uncle, and cousin had been treating him surprisingly nice (so far). Harry could eat what ever he wanted, as much as he wanted. Nobody bothered him to do chores. It was the best that the people of 4 Privet Drive had ever treated him.
But this really didn't cheer Harry up. No matter what he did, he couldn't get the events of last year out of his head. The way Sirius's face look as he was falling through that mysterious arc: laughter mixed with surprise. The memory of detentions with Professor Umbridge, possessions by Voldemort, new revelations about his father, and how wonderful it felt to attack Bellatrix Lestrange.
Bellatrix had murdered Sirius. Harry, in a fit of furious revenge, had ran after her when she tried to escape. And he had cast, or at least tried to cast, the Cruciatus on her.
That was one of the things Harry felt the most regret for doing. He had sunken to the level of a Death Eater - of Voldemort. He had caused another living thing pain and enjoyed it.
'She killed Sirius,' Harry always argued with himself. 'She deserves everything she got.' But then that nasty little voice in the back of his head would pipe up and return with, 'Yes, but according to Voldemort, every person he kills deserves it - even if it's just for being what they are.' Harry couldn't deny that.
It also didn't help he had more important matters to put his mind on. Like the prophecy, 'Neither can live while the other survives'. Harry would have to defeat Voldemort, he had always known that. Only now was the first time it really sunk in. To see it in writing like that....
Harry turned over as an owl with the Daily Prophet soared through his open window, followed by several more. This didn't shock him - almost everyday there was a mention of Harry in the newspaper (probably to make up for all the trouble it had caused him before) and he would receive letters upon letters from magical people around the world.
He went over, took the paper, and payed the owl. Harry glanced at the head line and started.
"PETER PETTIGREW ALIVE? SIRIUS BLACK INNOCENT?"
Harry looked at the picture below the caption. It was one of him, Sirius, and Lupin at number 12, Grimmauld Place that had been taken over the Christmas break. Sirius was sitting in an old chair against a dark green wall and he had his arm around Harry. Lupin stood in back with a hand on one of each of their shoulders. The three of them were laughing. Harry quickly scanned the picture, making sure that no one could figure out where they were, and found none. He sighed in relief - it would be dangerous to the Order if a Death Eater found out where they were staying.
He skimmed the article. It detailed a small attack on a Muggle village outside of London and the capture of several Death Eaters, including one Peter Pettigrew. But, at the end ....
'The Ministry promptly cleared Mr. Black of all charges, only to learn of his death a week prior.
'Mr. Black's assets (totaling 4.7 million Galleons, along with several different properties) will be split evenly between his best friend, Remus Lupin, and his godson, Harry Potter, both of whom were aware of his innocence.
'The story of Sirius Black should always be remembered. It is a sad time when the magical world makes such a horrible mistake, ruining the life of an honest, fun-loving man.
'Our hearts are with Mr. Black, wherever he is now, and with his friends and family. May this story have as happy of an ending as it can.'
Pettigrew was caught only a week after Sirius died.
'How ironic.'
Harry broke down in laughter on the floor. He laughed until he cried.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------
* = I think I made this word up. If anyone can tell me if this is a real word or not, leave it in a review please.