A/N: Thanks for all the kind reviews! It brings me back to this story when I had never really intended to keep it going.

Chapter 2

The numbness that Harry had enjoyed during his aunt and cousin's funeral happily continued until he and Vernon Dursley returned to Privet Drive. Vernon drove in stony silence while Harry watched the cookie cutter neighborhoods pass by his window, his thoughts equally out of reach. The silence was almost comfortable as both of the car's occupants seemed fully absorbed by their own thoughts.

The Boy Who Lived No More. That might be too poetic for the Daily Prophet, Harry thought. The Boy Who Lost was a fatalistic option that seemed practically inevitable while The Boy Who Left was entirely too much like wishful thinking.

Harry was startled as the car stopped in front of number 4. The day had been moving in strange fits and starts. The funeral had felt endless but the drive home had seemed instant.

Things quickly became more unreal as they awkwardly stood together in the front hall of the Dursley home. Both men, older and younger, felt the silence of the house weigh heavily upon them. No sounds of Dudley thundering up and down the stairs or shouting for his mother to bring him something from the kitchen in which Petunia was not puttering around or peering out of the windows, spying on the neighbors. The silence was disconcerting to say the least.

"Harry" Vernon broke the silence only to pause and rub his eyes with a shaking hand. "I'm not keeping you."

"I know." Harry muttered. He tugged slightly on his stiff, starched collar that Vernon had insisted he wear. Harry couldn't think of a more appropriate way to honor his stiff, starched and quite dead aunt so he hadn't argued.

"I mean it, Boy." Vernon growled when Harry didn't make any objections. His face was beginning to darken with anger. "You have an hour to leave this house. Do what you have to do to contact your kind. It's only because you are Pet-Petuna's blood that I don't just bin it and toss you out like the rubbish you are."

"Yes sir." Harry snarled, glaring at his former uncle. Harry stormed up the stairs but carefully closed the door to his bedroom. He had barely unpacked anything after returning to Privet Drive, so packing wasn't much of an issue. Hedwig was off delivering a letter to the Hermione, which left the Knight Bus was his only option for leaving. Vernon may have told him he had an hour to go but Harry wasn't about to take any chances.

It only took a moment for him to pile the few books and clothes that he had used during his short week away from Hogwarts. The accident had happened on Harry's second night home for the summer holidays. He would never forget the sounds of his uncle's weeping after the police told Vernon of his wife and son's deaths. For the first time in Harry's life he managed to feel some kinship with his uncle. Harry had ached with the same kind of pain from the instant Sirius fell through the veil in the Department of Mysteries. What he wouldn't give to have the luxury of wailing at life's injustices and indulge in his own misery.

Harry had been more startled then anything by the news of his family dying. For him it had seemed as though life had just stopped when Sirius vanished behind the veil. This extreme reminder that the world had moved on was both disturbing and unwelcome.

A part of Harry, one that he wasn't particularly proud of, felt some satisfaction in just how his aunt had died. She had raised Harry on the tale of his drunk-driving father killing himself and Lily. Now Petunia hadn't been drinking, the police hadn't even found her at fault in the accident, but the dark part of him that he never gave voice to saw this as justice for her cruelty to Harry and betrayal of her sister's memory. This was an ugly revenge against Vernon for always having mocked Harry for his dead family. Now Vernon would know what it meant to be alone and in pain for the loss of those he loved the most.

Just imagining the look on Hermione or Mrs. Weasley's face was enough to keep Harry silent on that thought forever.

Harry dragged his heavy trunk down the stairs, letting the other end bang against every step. When he returned to front hall it looked as though Vernon hadn't moved so much as an inch since Harry left to pack.

"Make sure you've got everything boy. I won't have you back no matter how many letters your kind sends. After today you don't exist to me."

Harry laughed, "Like I would ever come back if I had a choice anyway. With Aunt Petunia dead, I don't have any use for you."

Vernon's face purpled and he seemed to swell with his rage. For a second Harry was afraid he had accidentally blown up Vernon like he had Marge a few years earlier. Moving faster than Harry would have ever guessed possible, Vernon backhanded Harry across the face and he fell hard to the floor. The back of his head struck the floor with a thud that made his teeth rattle and head explode with pain.

"Boy," he roared, "you'll show some respect for my wife!"

Before Harry could let loose with what would have undoubtedly been a cruel retort he felt a rush of magic wash over him. It was only then that he and Vernon noticed the arrival of Albus Dumbledore.

The headmasters face was thunderous. He had arrived just in time to see Vernon strike Harry and had been shocked by the unexpected violence.

"You!" Harry's uncle snarled. His rage found a new target without the troubling familial connection. "You fix this!"

"Mr. Dursley, while I understand that this has been a trying time, you will not lay another hand on this boy" Dumbledore's face might have been made of stone for all the sympathy in his expression.

Vernon whole body sagged. "Please… please bring them back," Vernon's voice quavered. "What good is magic if you can't bring them back?"

Harry sighed as he heaved himself up off the floor. His head swam alarmingly and he felt his lip split when he grimaced from the pain.

"Do you think if he could bring Aunt Petunia and Dudley back I would have ever lived here in the first place?"

Vernon huffed a shaky sob. "Maybe if you'd died with your parents this wouldn't have happened. You've been a taint, a curse on our lives. Maybe things would have been different…"

"And maybe you should've died with your wife and son." Harry bared his teeth in what could have been a smile when his uncle's expression hardened once again. He could feel the hot blood drip from his throbbing mouth.

Vernon's face purpled as his rage was reborn but before he could take a step in Harry's direction the headmaster's voice froze them both in place.

"That is quite enough, Harry. Vernon, I am sorry for your loss but I'm about to deal you another blow that I believe will not be as harsh as I had initially believed." Dumbledore stepped between Harry and his uncle. "I'm taking Harry to a new home today."

Vernon smiled nastily. "Good! Let the boy freeload from someone else for a change. Don't bring him back here. He's not welcome."

Dumbledore reeled back as if repulsed by the obvious hatred emanating from the other man.

"I would ask if you would like a few moments to say goodbye but I'm guessing, and my guesses do tend to be good, that that would be unnecessary."

Vernon stomped passed them towards the lounge. He had avoided the kitchen entirely since the accident, living on takeaway when he did eat. The room seemed to pain him as Petunia's presence was still an almost tangible thing in there.

He growled out insults about Harry, wizards, and Dumbledore that made Harry's face burn hot with embarrassment. Or maybe that was just the swelling.

Dumbledore's hand pressing lightly to Harry's shoulder snapped him out of his musings. He cringed when his attempt at a smile only brought more blood trickling down his chin.

"Now this won't do." Dumbledore sighed. "I must admit that my knowledge of the healing arts isn't all that it could be, but I think I can fix this up for you. Do you mind, my boy?"

Harry could only shake his head as the old man's heavily carved wand lightly tapped his throbbing lip and then brushed against his cheek. The pain dimmed immediately, leaving only the pounding of the lump on the back of his head.

-0-0-0-0-

It was hardly ten minutes after the elderly wizard had left that there was another crack and flash of light, followed by a thud of a body hitting the wooden floor. Alice rushed forward to help the boy up from where he had fallen beside a large, old-fashioned trunk. He didn't seem the notice the cool skin of her hand as he peered at her through his shaggy hair.

The boy stood uncertainly before them; the picture of a boy on the cusp of manhood, all big gleaming eyes and awkward hands. He was handsome even while dressed in his stiff, ill-fitting clothes and grubby shoes. The smell of fresh blood clung to him like a shroud.

"I'm sorry about that Headmaster." Harry said quietly, not quite meeting Dumbledore's eyes. "My unc- Vernon shouldn't have said those things to you."

Dumbledore reached out and rested a hand on Harry's shoulder. "It is not for you to apologize for the actions of others, my dear boy. I think for once Vernon Dursley can be forgiven some of his bad behavior, but striking you in that way is not something that should be easily brushed aside."

Esme gasped and Alice pulled Harry carefully away from the old wizard and smoothed her thumb over what she now realized was a freshly healed wound on his lip.

"Your uncle did this to you?" She asked, golden eyes blazing.

Harry shifted awkwardly away from her hand. "It's nothing," he muttered while trying to subtly look at the room full of people. He only gathered the courage to look Alice in the eyes after the silence became uncomfortable.

He gasped as the sunlight streaming through the window made her skin shimmer. "You're not human! What-"

"Surely Potter, even your infinitesimally small brain can determine what these things are." Snape spat before Harry could say more. "Lupin taught them to you in your third year. But then again, perhaps his skills as a teacher were overrated."

Harry's shoulders hunched and he looked at his feet after casting another furtive glance at Alice, who smiled brightly at him. "Vampires," he muttered quietly.

"It seems as though even a mindless cretin such as yourself can retain basic information."

Harry's head was still spinning a very short hour later after being installed in a bare looking bedroom with a spectacular wall of windows. The headmaster and Snape had left after an alarmingly brief explanation of Harry's new living arrangements. A bed had been retrieved from a nearby cabin the Cullens kept; his clothes had been unpacked by several of the female vampires (who had tutted with dissatisfaction over the state of his wardrobe) and decorations were being artfully arranged around the room by the third. The vampire that was supposedly his ancestor sat immobile next to Harry as they watched the others flutter around his new bedroom.

"You… you're not afraid of us." Jasper said quietly. He seemed disturbed at the thought.

"No."

"Why not?"

"There are worse things than being dead." Harry finally replied. "And besides, if you wanted to kill me they wouldn't be worrying about my clothes or if this room needs curtains."

Jasper only stared at Harry uncomprehendingly but before he could even open his mouth to argue Alice sat at Harry's other side. Her blinding smile hadn't dimmed since it was decided that Harry would stay with them for the summer.

"I'm so happy you're here, Harry." She said as her eyes devoured him. And she was happy. Jasper almost felt giddy from her reflected joy. Harry was no empath but even he knew the truth of her words.

"Why." No one had ever been so genuinely happy to see him. There had to be a catch. Some way this was going to metaphorically bite Harry in the ass. Well, hopefully only metaphorically.

Alice was quiet for a long time and Harry was regretting asking by the time she answered. She held Harry's hand and ran her thumb carefully over the words that had been carved there during the previous school year. They were lighter now but he had a feeling they might as well had been newly created to her sharp eyes.

"The truth is that family matters." Harry tried to pull his hand from hers but she held fast.

"I wouldn't know."

Alice smiled, "Well then I guess we have something to teach you now, right?"