Harry Potter and the Lumus Lumia

Title: Harry Potter and the Lumus Lumia
Author: Wisilver
Rating: Will eventually be an NC-17
Pairings: HP/DM – RW/HG – OC’s and Other Pairings Coming Up!
Disclaimer: Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, Harry isn’t Mine, so Please Don’t Sue!
Chapter One: There’s No Place Like Home

Harry Potter often considered himself among the lucky few that had their decisions regarding the war already made. It was not the normal witch or wizard who knew where they stood when it came to it all and were still willing to die for the cause. Harry Potter knew since he was first told the story of his parents and the evil Lord Voldemort exactly how deep in he was. It was kill or be killed. Lord Voldemort had not killed Harry Potter so far, and he didn’t plan on being killed by him any time soon.

Harry stood up in the quiet compartment. Ron had fallen asleep some time half way through the journey and Hermione had been quietly reading a book. Because the binding was worn and the pages were crinkly, Harry had a sneaking suspicion that it was Hogwarts: A History. He didn’t ask her though, but merely watched the countryside roll by as the day wore on. Just a few minutes ago, the train had pulled into the station, but the trio stayed in the compartment, letting the rush of students pass by before they started out of the train.

The ride had been quiet for a few reasons. One, Draco Malfoy, Harry’s rival since the day he arrived at Hogwarts wasn’t on the train. He had run off with Snape just at the end of the year, leaving the Slytherins without a malicious leader and leaving Harry without the nuisance of sending him away. The second reason, and perhaps the more poignant one, was that Albus Dumbledore, headmaster to the wizarding school, Hogwarts, and Harry’s mentor and the reason why he had become a wizard in the first place, had been murdered by Snape the same night he disappeared. It had been a trying few weeks, and everyone had felt the impact of losing such a strong magical leader.

Harry, with Ron and Hermione’s help, pulled the trunks down and dragged them out to the hallway. Harry jumped off the train steps and helped Ron drag his trunk down the stairs with a few dull thuds. Hermione followed with Crookshanks’ basket tucked under her arm, and Hedwig and Pig’s cages in her hands. Once all three of them had wrangled their trunks from the innards of the Hogwarts Express, Harry looked around the crowded platform for a cart of some kind.

Though it was as crowded as always, the platform was eerily more quiet than usual. Harry knew why, but still it made the loss of Dumbledore even more raw and painful. Tears stung at the corner of his eyes, and he looked down, trying to rid his mind of Dumbledore’s body on the ground. In a heartbeat, his sadness turned to anger, and he ground his teeth, imagining the greasy haired Snape, and before he new it, he was shaking with rage. Ron tapped his shoulder and he looked up, sighing heavily, letting his hands relax out of the fists they were in. Ron nodded at him and Hermione looked concerned. He gave them both a small smile, before looking back towards the crowd of students around them.

“Wotcha, Harry!” A bubblegum pink spiky-haired head bobbed into view.

“Hey, Tonks,” Harry replied, and he couldn’t help but smile at the metamorphmagus.

“I had to come back to London to finish up some things with the Order about this past year. Reports and other such nonsense I have to finish, so I took the train with the others coming back. I wanted to come find you, but those hallways are treacherous. No Auror training would have covered them kids.” She pulled forward a cart with her trunk already on it, and Ron and Harry lifted their trunks up one by one on them.

“Why didn’t you just apparate back?” Hermione asked.

Tonks tapped the side of her nose and winked, lowering her voice. “Don’t want the stinkin’ ministry to watch us, do we?”

The trio laughed and they took turns pushing the extremely heavy cart towards the barrier.

“Wait just a sec, gotta be more inconspicuous.” The trio turned around to watch Tonks scrunch up her face. Though they had seen her transform many times, it always looked odd. Her short spiky hair turned a bit longer and to a beautiful auburn. She tucked a loose strand behind an ear and smiled. “Okay, ready!”

They turned and leaned nonchalantly against the barrier, and a second later, they were blinking in the bright platform of the muggle side of Kings’ Cross Station. Harry spotted his aunt and uncle and turned to talk to Ron and Hermione as Tonks clumsily tried to right the cart that was stuck by a water fountain.

“I’ll owl you when I’m done in Godric’s Hollow. There are a few things I have to do while I’m there, and I’d rather do them alone if that’s alright with you two.”

“Sure, Harry,” Hermione answered before Ron could protest. She hugged him tight and gave him a small smile.

“Yeah, no problem, mate,” Ron gave him the same kind of small smile and nodded at Harry.

“See ya, Tonks!” Harry called to the frustrated witch.

“Later, Potter! Mind you don’t blow your buttocks off while you’re away!” Harry laughed and once procuring his own cart, pushed his trunk and Hedwig’s cage towards his aunt and uncle. They all exchanged looks of mutual distaste as they exited the station and made their way to Number Four Privet Drive.

For Harry, this would be the last time he would have to make this journey, and he couldn’t wait for it to be over.

~*~

Life at Number Four was the same as it always was. The house never changed, and Harry felt the same sort of magical numbness seep into him as it always did in this house. It seemed to be the complete antithesis of everything magical in Harry’s life, and now that Dumbledore was gone, well, things were just dead here. For the first time that Harry could remember, though, was that he could feel the wards as he walked through the front door. The house hummed quietly and Harry couldn’t help but smile to himself. Dumbledore would never be truly gone, would he?

He hefted his trunk up to his room alone, making sure not to make too much noise on the stairs. Hedwig hooted indignantly at every bump (Harry had secured her on the top of the trunk to do as few trips as possible) and clicked her beak in annoyance.

“Would you like to come out of the cage and push?” Harry hissed at her and she turned her back to him.

When they finally made it up to the room that Harry had slept in every summer for the past six years, sweat was beading on his forehead and he longed for a cold glass of Pumpkin juice. Merlin, he couldn’t wait until he could leave. He only had to stay a week and then he could go. Then he would be free of this place and these people for the rest of his life. However, he would also not be under the care of the wards Dumbledore put up any more. After the next year, he would be alone in the world again, with no one to stand in the way of Lord Voldemort and his evil plots.

A tiny sliver of fear slipped coldly down Harry’s spine and it made his hair stand on end. He would not fear Voldemort, he said to himself, slamming his hand down on his trunk. Hedwig hooted, snapping him out of his reverie and he pulled her cage off his trunk before setting it down on the desk. He opened it, and the window, and watched as she flew out of it, and into the dying light of the sun.

Harry was so tired he just collapsed down on the bed. Leaving the window open for Hedwig, he kicked his shoes off, put his glasses on the bedside table, and fell asleep in the clothes he had been wearing since early that morning. It could have been that he was so tired that made him dream so oddly. He dreamt of Fawkes, of her sad lament at Dumbledore’s funeral, and the next thing he knew, he was on his Firebolt, following her. They were flying over the Forbidden Forest, over London, over Privet Drive and all of the other surrounding neighborhoods. Then, they were flying over somewhere Harry had never seen before. It was a quaint village, with small houses and huge pieces of land. There were woods and mist floated up over the emerald green grass. Harry was so keen on seeing the land that his dream self twisted over the broom to get a better look. Harry slipped and fell down, down, down into the misty woods.

He woke with a start, sitting up in the bed. Sweat made his shirt stick to his back and he rubbed his face, which was wet with sweat or tears, Harry couldn’t be sure. Though he wasn’t wearing his glasses, the grey light in the room let him know it was still early morning. He turned and put on his glasses, and the repaired alarm clock blared in bright green numbering “5:36”. He groaned and stood up, stretching and looking around the room. Hedwig hadn’t returned yet, but a cool breeze swept into the room through the window, and it felt good on Harry’s hot face.

In the cool grey morning light, Harry stood there in the middle of the room, listening to the leaves rustle outside and the birds of the morning beginning to wake up. He recalled his dream, recalled Fawkes’ song and a fresh wave of sadness crashed over him. It didn’t matter that he had Lupin or Mrs. Weasley anymore, because Harry knew that he had no one. He was Harry Potter alone now. No parents, no Sirius, no Dumbledore…Just Harry. And though he hated to admit it to himself, he was lonely and he was scared of being alone for the rest of his life.

In his mind, he prodded the idea of being killed by Voldemort, and for some reason, it didn’t bother him. That portion of his future was cut out for him. Kill or be killed. It didn’t scare Harry that he would have to find all the Horcruxes, and finally kill the most evil wizard of any age. That daunting task made it easy for Harry. He knew what he had to do. But being alone, being alone scared him witless and he wasn’t quite sure how to handle it.

Looking around his room again, he walked over to his trunk. Popping it open, he pulled out a quill and piece of paper. He told Headmistress McGonagall that he would owl her when he got back to his Aunt and Uncle’s house. She did not know of his intentions to not to return to Hogwarts next year, but he was sure that she would find out soon enough. Harry, you see, had every intention to join the Order of the Pheonix. He would not apply to be an Auror. He was tired of the Ministry and it’s bureaucratic bullshit. Harry Potter would not be the cut out poster boy for the Ministry and it’s failing protection against Voldemort.

He sat down at the desk, the chair creaking as he sat down, and began writing. It was a short letter, no frivolities or extras. He was merely writing to let her know that he was okay and would be spending the week here before leaving to attend to some unfinished business. He knew that she would want to know where he was going, to no doubt send someone to follow, but he would not divulge that information for now. He had been contacted regarding his parents’ estate in Godric’s Hollow, and he wanted to see what was about it all before he had people flocking in to see him. He had his apparition license, so travel would be easy enough. Special circumstances allowed for Rufus Scrimgeour to attempt getting Harry on his side one more time, but Harry would not yield to the Minister of Magic. However, he gladly accepted the license ahead of time. He had apparated both himself and Dumbledore back, anyway. He deserved it.

Finishing the letter, he folded it up and closed it. Placing it on the desk, he walked away. He would send Hedwig with the letter when she got back and rested a bit. Harry sat back down on the bed and leaned over, placing his elbows on his knees and staring down at the floor. This would be the only week of relaxation he would have for a long time. He would go to Godric’s Hollow, look after his parent’s estate and seek them out in the graveyard. That thought sent shivers down his spine and made goose pimples stand up on his arms. He had never been that close to his parents, alive or dead, in more than a decade, and the thought of being there made him sick to his stomach. He collapsed back on the bed and closed his eyes. Maybe he would get another hour of sleep before his Aunt and Uncle woke up.

~*~

The week passed by without much incident. He was right to think that McGonagall would want to know where he went. He received a response to his letter the same day he sent it out. He smiled at her fervor in wanting to know where he was going and why he wouldn’t tell her, but he didn’t respond to the letter. It would only fuel her wanting to know where he was going even more. She was a good witch and would be an amazing Headmistress, but she would not know the things that Dumbledore knew. He always gave Harry a bit of leeway when it came to certain things, but Harry always figured it was because Dumbledore knew exactly where Harry was and exactly what he was doing. Maybe Dumbledore was more comfortable with letting Harry do what he wanted, letting it all play out and see where it took them all as a community. To think, Harry said to himself, a wry smile on his face, where would we all be if Ron, Hermione and I didn’t disobey?

He didn’t bother unpacking, and his Aunt and Uncle barely said ten words to him that week. Not that he minded much. Even Dudley avoided him completely, and when Harry glanced at himself in the mirror a day before he left, he understood why. His hair had been growing longer and longer, but now, a weeks worth of stubble had collected on his jaw and his chin. If he glanced at himself fast enough, he could make out Sirius’ features in his own, even though he knew there was no blood relation. Perhaps this was the reason why Harry didn’t bother to shave or to cut his hair.

Packing that last night was simple, Harry threw the clothes that had been washed onto the top of his trunk and fitted everything inside it quite nicely. He even found a way to fit Hedwig’s cage inside of it. She would fly to Godric’s Hollow since Harry wasn’t quite sure of the effects on apparition on animals. He climbed into bed that night, placed his glasses on the bedside table, and fell into an uneasy sleep.

He had been having the same dream all week. He would follow Fawkes, but end up falling off his broom into the deep, dark of the misty green woods. He would wake up sweating and teary-eyed, unsure of what exactly he was dreaming out. There was no Voldemort, no parents or Sirius, and certainly no Dumbledore. That’s why he was glad when the repaired alarm clock went off at 4:00 A.M. and he climbed out bed.

As quietly as he could, he hefted his trunk outside and into the quiet backyard of Number Four. He had talked to Mr. Weasley, and as long as he apparated back here, he would be fine from any Ministry trouble. Not that Harry cared much, anyway. He watched as Hedwig flew off into the early morning sunrise before turning to his trunk and gripping the handle tightly. He wouldn’t want to lose it halfway there.

He concentrated, and soon enough, the uncomfortable feeling about being sucked through rubber tube had Harry wishing he could have just flown, but his broom was safely tucked inside of his trunk, slightly shrunk. Next thing Harry knew, he was landing softly on rolling green grass. He stood up as soon as he found his body and looked at his surroundings. His mouth fell open as he was faced with a large, misty emerald green wood being illuminated by the morning sun. A worn side said to the side of the muddy road, “Welcome to Godric’s Hollow Est. 1560 Population: 1500”.

So this is where his dreams had been taking him…

End Chapter One