Harry Potter and the Cursed Heart ~discontinued~

Prologue

Harry was mad to say the least. He was fuming. How dare they turn their back on him. Accuse him of being dark. He died for the light (granted he came back to life but that's not the point right now). He died for them and they want to accuse him of going dark. Being evil. Being the next Dark Lord. And normally Harry would be fine with rumours - he did survive second year - but this time they weren't going away and that's not what he was most mad about. No he wasn't the most mad about not being able to walk the streets without being sneered at or called out. Nor was he most mad about the lack of care and respect towards the "saviour of the light". No. That was not the worst of it. The worst of it was his friends.

Not only had they completely left him, they were even fuelling the rumours. Ron he wouldn't be too surprised about leaving but he always came back in the end. Even if he didn't want him too. After the whole fiasco in fourth year about putting his name in the Goblet of Fire, Harry wasn't sure if he wanted a friend who could just leave so easily. Hermione however, she had never left him; she had been harsh at times but never cruel, and never gone this far. This time, they had gone too far. They had turned their backs on him completely and were actively working against him. Years and years of trust and loyalty all gone. But now he had had enough. He was done with moping around all day in Grimmauld Place, and now he was ready to confront them.

So with that in mind, he found himself outside the Burrow. Ready to charge in and say exactly what was on his mind, when he heard them talking. About him. 'A little eavesdropping never hurt anybody. Besides, it's the least I can do.'

"Did you read to latest article? Absolutely terrific. The Boy Who Lied. It is a masterpiece. There is no way he can bounce back from this!" Ah, and those overly excited tones with a hint of know-it-all can only be one person. Hermione.

"I know! It's bloody brilliant! Honestly 'Mione, I don't know how you can keep going with this. I know we told Dumbledore we would but I didn't realise just how difficult the constant interviews were. Destroying Potter? Easy. But the interviews are exhausting." And this also overly excited voice with a sprinkle of dumb is unmistakably Ron.

"I just speak from the heart my dear Ronnikins. All those years of pretending to be his friends we have gathered some pretty good ideas on what to say. And embellishing the truth is never a bad thing"

"Hermione, it doesn't change the fact that you are incredible."

And that is at the point Harry stopped listening as it got pretty non-PG. Also the fact he needed to process exactly what he had just heard. Moping around didn't sound too bad around about now. But no, his legs felt like lead and he couldn't move. He pressed his back again the wall and just breathed. Or at least tried to. But his thoughts were flooded with betrayal and deceit. Both of them. Never really his friends. All that time together. Nothing. It meant nothing to them. And Dumbledore? Dumbledore was involved too? Damn that grandfatherly eyes twinkling trick!

They were his first friends. Or at least he thought they were. Deep breathes. In. Out. In. Scream into the abyss. And he did just that. Except it wasn't the abyss, it was the fields surrounding the Burrow. And that brought it all back. If they were only faking, who else was? Who could he really trust? Everything he had known until that point in his life had been a lie. He could almost laugh at the idea of Malfoy being right at the beginning of first year. What had the world come to now that he would rather be friends with Malfoy than Ron and Hermione. Ron and Hermione. He ran his hands over his face. Oh Ron and Hermione. How he wished he could get his revenge. How he wished he could go back knowing what he knew now. Oh how he wished.

Lifting his hands from his face, he pulled on his hair before lifting his head and opening his eyes. But he didn't see the open fields of the Weasley residence. Now all he saw was darkness. Now darkness but just black, yet all so perfectly lit. He could see everything yet there was nothing to see. Except for the hooded figure in the corner, who seemed to be watching him very closely. Staring back, he couldn't make out any features but he felt the definite chill down his back.

"Master"