Harry stared at the ceiling of his dark room, lost in thought. If only, if only... he couldn't keep those thoughts from invading, no matter how hard he tried. The bedside table shook as a new wave of sadness swept over him at the memory of his Godfather. He took some deep breaths and tried to control himself. The Dursleys would not take it lightly if the furniture started breaking again, when they'd had a weeklong reprieve. His thoughts drifted to the first day back, and as he fell into a fitful sleep, he dreamed.

He sat in the living room, totally unmotivated to watch the news. The others in the room kept casting glances, but they were to scared to say anything. The Order's intimidation at the train station had gone over even better then they had planned. Aunt Petunia had served him a full portion of dinner, and they were even allowing him to watch TV with them for the evening. Though he didn't really care much, he was distantly grateful that they were at least being neutral. He should have known it couldn't last.

It was Dudley who made the wrong move, predictably. He was tired of being restrained by his parents, and the separation of a few hours had lessened his fear of the wizards. Taking in his sad features, he commented to his cousin.

"What's wrong, Potter? You look like your dog just died." He laughed to himself, oblivious to the reaction he had caused in the young wizard. There was a stab of pain as the mocking comment penetrated his gloom, which was swiftly followed by rage. How dare he make fun of my pain! They never know what goes on, what I'm going through! I can't...

This was about the time the TV set exploded. The sparks and flying parts surprised Harry, but Uncle Vernon reacted quickly, getting the fire extinguisher and making sure there was no danger. They all cast more glances his way, but now they were even more scared. He took a deep breath and spoke to them.

"It would probably be best if you didn't talk to me. I'll be up in my room." With that he left them.

That had been a couple of weeks ago, and the TV wasn't the only thing to suffer. They had stopped replacing the light bulbs in his room, because they kept fizzing out. The worst damage had been done when mad-eye Moody had stopped by to personally to check his status. They had engaged in a silent conversation, and the old auror had made the mistake of mentioning Bellatrix Lestrange and Sirius in the same sentence. The china cabinet had exploded, the light fixture had come crashing down, and the table they were sitting at had cracked. After repairing everything, he had beaten a retreat, no doubt to inform Dumbledore. Harry had spent the following five days in his room, trying not to succumb to the bleak depression. It had been easier to stave it off when Ron and Hermione were there. Their presence served to remind him about all the good that he had discovered when he had entered the wizarding world. When they weren't there, only the pain and suffering came to mind. It became so bad that he sometimes wished that Hagrid had never come for him. Then maybe Sirius would still be alive, and possibly even Cedric as well. It was Hedwig that kept his mind intact. He had to care for her, so there was a minor goal for him to accomplish. It wasn't much, but it helped with the day to day living.

Harry sat on the swing of the park, occasionally pushing a little bit, but mostly staring off into space. The equipment had miraculously been fixed one night, and no matter how Dudley and his gang tried to break it again, it was always back to normal by morning. He suspected that his guard was responsible, since he tended to frequent the area during the long daytime hours. He thought about the prophecy, and decided that he really didn't care if he lived or died. Voldemort was bound to get him one of these days, and it might even be a relief. Not having to deal with all of life's pain might be worth a fight to the death. He started swinging at that thought, trying to decide how he wanted to go down. Sirius had always said that a blaze of glory was best, but...

His thoughts were interrupted by a little boy who slid to a stop beneath his swing. He stood up and dusted himself off frantically. When he saw Harry sitting there, he gave a start. He must have recognized him, because his eyes widened and he put out his hands as if to ward this new terror off. Harry noticed that he had something in his hands, but before he could take a closer look, Dudley and his thugs showed up at the edge of the park. The boy looked up at the whoops of triumph the bullies gave, and seemed to make a decision. He turned pleading eyes to Harry, not saying anything, and saying everything at the same time. Harry considered it.

It wasn't really that long ago that Harry had been in this very position, and nobody had helped him. Maybe it was time to offset the karma. He jerked his head towards the back of the swing. With a grateful look, the exhausted boy took up a position at the rear. Harry waited calmly for the others to come his way. Dudley seemed to hesitate when he saw who was swinging there, but he eventually led his group over.

"We're here for the peck, Potter. If you know what's good for you, you'll turn him over." He didn't really want to confront his cousin, but he didn't see any way out of this without losing face. Harry gave a small smirk, the most he could manage nowadays.

"Why don't you just leave him be Dudley? I'm sure there's some other eleven-year-old that you out number five to one and out weigh by a ton you could beat up." Dudley's face turned red as he tried to think of some way to leave the area immediately. His friends, however, moved forward in anticipation. It had been a long time since they had beaten up the Potter kid, and they felt like reliving the old times. "As a matter of fact, I'm sure that's how you win all of your matches." Harry was warming up to his subject now. I had been quite a while since he had felt any satisfaction, and he wasn't about to stop. "Just find someone half your height, age, and weight, beat them unmercifully and presto, a new champ." His mocking tone of voice was what finally drove Dudley off the bend.

"At least I didn't go and get myself killed, like your stupid Godfat.." Dudley covered his mouth in horror. The smirk on Harry's face had disappeared, and his eyes were narrowed. Looking to the sides, he noticed that the other swings were starting to move without anyone touching them.

"Who told you?" His cousin's voice was cold and abrupt, though the other gang members didn't seem to notice. Dudley swallowed hard.

"I heard mum talking to some of your kind, and that's what they were talking about." The swings were going harder, now, and he was looking for the best way to leave when his friends spoke up.

"So, some stupid relative of yours bit it, huh? Well I guess that's just-" that was as far as he got before the swings snapped from their holders. They started whipping the boys, eventually chasing them from the park altogether. Harry put his face in his hands, and rubbed it. He was really in trouble, now. Doing magic in front of the muggles. That's what he got for goading Dudley like that. He was never going to learn, was he? The sooner Voldemort finished the job, the better. He noticed that the boy was hiding his head, and wondered if he was cowering from the thugs or hiding from the magic.

"They're gone now." When he got to his feet, Harry noticed he still had a bruise on the left side of his face. He brushed himself off again, this time more slowly, and Harry finally got a better look at what he was carrying. A parchment envelope with a wax seal. He could just make out the letter H, and the animals surrounding it. Harry almost burst out laughing at the thought that there was another wizard in his area. He held out his hand. "So, what's your name?" The boy looked at his hand suspiciously, no doubt going over the rumors that flew around about Harry Potter. Since he had just saved him, however, he was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. He shook the hand firmly and replied.

"Mark Evans. I was trying to take a walk to think when the Lump started chasing me." His voice was firm and clear, though it was obvious that Dudley terrified him.

"Welcome to the wonderful" and he couldn't stop the sarcasm from entering his voice here, "world of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." To say that the look on Mark's face was shock would be understating it. In fact, it drew out Harry's first real smile in weeks. When the shock wore off, however, he felt like he was dealing with another Colin Creevy. Mark started a racing explanation of how he had gotten the letter, and how there were wizards with his parents even now, and how he was confused, so he went for a walk. Harry remembered how excited he had been and simply patted him on the shoulder, lest he try to taint the young boys views with his own bitter experiences. He was about to bid him goodbye when he felt a tingle run up and down his body. He looked around, all sense of gloom or happiness gone now. His adrenalin was pumping, and he would be ready. They were coming. He told Mark to run back to his house and get whoever was there. Not having missed Harry's rapid transformation from sad laughter to dead seriousness, he took off. Harry heard a high pitched, crazy laughter in his head, and knew that the hated woman would be here soon. He reached for his wand... and discovered that it wasn't there! He cursed himself for his inattention, and tried to ready himself as best he could. He had a horrible feeling that this would be the day he died, and there was barely a twinge of fear. His only real concern was making sure that Mark managed to make it back to his house.

Then the cracks started. There were five in total, and he was surrounded. The insane laughter of Bellatrix Lestrange rang in his ears, and he could only glare at her with hatred. He felt a smack hit the back of his head, and he was suddenly on the ground. She nudged him with her foot, and he tried to grab it. A swift kick to his side convinced him that it wouldn't be a good idea.

"So what have we here, baby Potter? No wand? The death of my mongrel cousin must have you distracted." She started on her insane laughter again, and Harry's anger was rising. He longed to face her in a duel, but he knew that would never happen. It appeared that this was his end. He growled a little, but did nothing else.

"Hey, Bella." The man holding Harry down started shaking him. "The brat's getting kind of hot here." She nodded her head, because the heat rolling off of him was starting to get uncomfortable. Drawing her wand, she trained it on him.

"Maybe this will cool him off. Crucio!" The man behind him let go, but not soon enough to let him dodge the curse. As the pain racked his body, he thought that it wasn't as bad as it could be. The pain of Voldemort possessing his body was much worse, so he didn't scream out. This seemed to anger he all the more. "Well, it seems that we require a little something more." He saw her nod her head, and a moment latter another Death Eater showed up, dragging... Mark Evans. He shook his head. Though his anger had left, it was quickly making reappearance. Why did they have to drag the innocent into this? He may or may not deserve what they did to him, but Mark was just there. Then he saw what Bella was going to do, and his eyes widened. She had turned her wand to Mark, and Harry had no doubt of her intentions. Time seemed to slow down as she incanted "Cru-". Harry knew that a curse like that when you were so young, and weakened as he knew Mark to be, would no doubt cause permanent damage. Struggling past the remaining pain from his torture, he threw himself at the paralyzed boy, knocking him to the ground and coving him with his own body. There was no way to avoid the curse, but he figured it was worth it.

Until he got hit. For some reason, this one seemed even worse than the last. He screamed as the pain made its way through his body. This was it. If he didn't die from this, he was probably going to lose his mind. Then the pain seemed to merge with something inside of him, and there were flames. He heard his enemies screaming in pain, and raised his head. Then he wished that he hadn't. The five Death Eaters were burning alive. Their screams filled his head, and he knew that he had done this. Then he blacked out.

Nymphadora Tonks skidded to a halt as there were screams from the park she had just abandoned. She cursed her inattention and headed back at full speed. What she saw stopped her heart. Harry was under the wand of Bellatrix Lestrange, and an innocent boy was being dragged towards them. When she turned her wand to the other captive, Tonks knew she had to hurry. The madwoman's favorite spell would most likely destroy someone that young, she was sure. Before she could get close enough to have effect, however, the choice was taken out of her hands. She saw the light leave her wand, and run straight into the back of Harry Potter! He had jumped in front of the curse and was now shielding the little boy, though he was obviously in great pain.

Later, she would still swear to seeing what she saw, though it was confusing at the time. A wave of light seemed to pulse off of the writhing young man, and the Death Eaters surrounding him burst into flames. She shuddered at their screams, and ran all the faster. By the time she got there, however, she knew she was beyond to late to save them. Five smoldering piles surrounded an unconscious Harry potter and she swallowed hard. This was going to be trouble.