If you were to look beneath the side window at number 4 Privet Drive, you would find a particularly dead looking bush. If you were to look inside that particularly dead looking bush, you would find a thin boy with hair the colour of spilled ink. If you were to push away the hair, you would find a peculiarly shaped scar on his forehead, and if he were to open his sleeping eyes, they would be a startlingly bright shade of green.
Harry Potter, with the aid of the drowsy summer heat and yet another disappointing afternoon listening in to the news, had fallen into a deep sleep. Lately, Harry's dreams had been plagued with questions. Questions that no one seemed to think were important to answer.
What was the Order doing about Voldemort?
How were Ron and Hermione?
How were Sirius and Remus?
Why was nobody answering his letters?
Why was nobody telling him a damn thing!
A furrow appeared in the sleeping boy's brow as he shifted slightly, causing the whole bush to shake.
"Stop," Harry mumbled as his dream changed into something more sinister.
~~~~~~~~~~~
He stood in a large field, the sky covered with black clouds. A harsh wind whipped through Harry's body as he turned around in panic.
"Hello? Is anybody there!"
The wind answered him, tearing through the empty grass field, whistling eerily.
"Anybody!" Harry yelled, the feeling of dread heavy in his chest.
"Harry, how nice of you to join me here," a voice whispered, seeming to come from all directions at once, it filled Harry's head, and for that moment when it was speaking, Harry couldn't think of anything else.
The wind stopped suddenly, leaving the field in complete silence.
"Who are you?" Harry murmured into the silence.
"Not yet Harry," the voice hissed, filling Harry's head again. "Not yet."
~~~~~~~~~~~
CRACK!
Harry jerked awake and blinked, looking around disconcertedly, He grimaced as the summer heat flooded back, banishing the last remains of the freezing wind from the dream.
"Boy! What the hell are you doing underneath the window again!"
Harry looked up and started at the sight of his Uncle's purple face glaring down at him.
"I was listening to the news, but I fell asleep," Harry mumbled, standing up and brushing bits of dried bush from his too big pants and shirt.
"Again! This is the third time this week," Harry's Aunt chipped in haughtily, placing a hand on her husband's shoulder.
Harry glared at both of them, the sun beating down on his shoulders uncomfortably. He found himself longing to be back in the cool, quiet field.
"Didn't you know that the news changes everyday?" Harry spat, turning on his heel and walking away, ignoring the outraged shouts from behind him.
"Boy! Wait! What was that noise?"
Harry sighed and faced his Uncle, who's fat chest was hanging halfway through the window.
"What noise?" Harry asked through gritted teeth.
"The crack that came from out here," he paused, thinking for a second before his face turned a deeper shade of puce, "It wasn't one of you was it?"
Harry stopped himself from making a retort that would get bars on his windows again and thought about his Uncle's question. Thinking back, the crack had sounded much like apparition.
Someone was here for him!
Or someone had just left.
Harry turned around again and started walking, this time, not stopping when his Uncle yelled out.
~~~~~~~~~~
Harry walked the hot concrete streets until he heard the sound of bikes and loud, obnoxious voices.
"Damn it," Harry muttered as four large teenage boys rode into view, all on expensive bikes, their gold chains dangling from their fat necks.
The largest by far was Dudley, his bottom handing over the edge of the bike seat as they rode towards Harry. Harry ducked behind a house and watched as Dudley's gang all went different directions, yelling goodbye as they rode off.
Harry was surprised at the sharp stab of anger that rushed through him at the sight of his cousin smiling and waving. The fat pig deserved much worse that what Harry had endured at the hands of his Uncle and Aunt.
"Hey Dudley!" Harry yelled, his cousin's pig like face turning towards him, the smile replaced with an ugly glare.
"What do you want freak?" Dudley sneered, gripping the handles of his bike so that his chubby knuckles turned white.
Harry saw red at the word freak and pulled his wand out of his back pocket, striding up to Dudley and pointing the wand between the fat boy's eyes. Dudley's glare disappeared and he whimpered pathetically, cowering under Harry's glare.
"Don't ever call me that again," Harry said, pushing the wand further into the skin.
"You're not allowed to use that outside of your freak school!" Dudley exclaimed.
Harry's eyes narrowed, "My what school?"
Dudley paled at his mistake and squeezed his eyes shut.
"Go on Harry, that's it."
Harry gasped at the sound of the voice from his dream, coming from all directions, blocking out every other sound.
Harry looked at Dudley, who's mouth was moving, but the voice blocked it all out.
"Now Harry, you know you want to."
Harry tightened the grip on his wand and gritted his teeth.
"Expulso!"
Dudley flew through the air and smashed into a wooden fence with a sickening thud, crashing to the ground and laying still, his head lolled to the side.
Harry blinked and shook his head, trying to clear it.
What had just happened?
That wasn't Harry that had just sent his cousin flying through the air. That was someone else, someone Harry didn't know lived inside of him. He looked down at the wand in his hand and his eyes widened when he remembered that the ministry would know exactly what he had done.
But Harry was dragged out of his thoughts by the feeling of sadness, the feeling of unnatural fear deep in his chest. He looked around in terror to see that clouds had taken over the sky and the hot summer day had turned freezing.
"Dementors," Harry murmured as he ran to Dudley's body, slapping him lightly across the face. "Get up! Come on!"
Dudley didn't move, his small eyes stayed shut.
"Dudley get up!"
Harry froze when he felt a cold, slimy hand on his shoulder, he whipped around and came face to face with a large cloaked figure hovering off the ground, it's face like a black hole beneath its hood.
Harry scrambled away from it and pulled out his wand.
"Over here!" he yelled, bringing the Dementor's attention away from the unconscious boy beneath it.
As the Dementor glided towards Harry, he tried to pull up a happy memory, anything that would fuel his patronus.
He thought of Hermione and Ron's smiling faces.
"So much happier without you," the voice hissed.
"Shut up!" Harry growled, and thought of Sirius and Remus.
"They haven't bothered to write to you once these holidays, do they even care at all?" the voice asked, venom dripping in its tone.
"Expecto patronum!" Harry yelled, trying to ignore the voice, but nothing but white wisps came out of his wand.
He thought harder as the Dementor drew closer, but all he could think about was the voice in his head, and the cold empty field in his dreams.
"Expecto patronum!"
Nothing.
The dementor stopped in front of Harry and stared at him for a while.
"Stay perfectly still Harry," the voice said.
Having no other choice, Harry listened to the voice, the only movement was his chest moving up and down in panic. After a few seconds, the Dementor turned and glided slowly to Dudley.
"See what happens when you listen to me Harry?"
"But now it's going to kill Dudley!" Harry exclaimed, no longer caring that he was answering the voice inside his head.
"Do you care?"
Harry was silent as he watched the Dementor lean over the unconscious boy and place its hole of a mouth to his lips.
"No. I don't." Harry said as the Dementor flew away, leaving a soulless Dudley behind.
"Aren't you happy Harry? Aren't you glad that he's finally gone for good?"
"Get out of my head!" Harry yelled, his hands pulling painfully on his hair.
"Harry? What are you doing out- oh my god!"
Harry turned and saw an old woman in a long, shapeless dress, her hair piled on top of her head in curlers, and fluffy pink slippers on her feet. She was staring at Dudley in horror.
"Mrs Figg..." Harry murmured, "I didn't do it-"
"Dementors?" she asked.
"Yeah - I mean - Mrs Figg? You know about Dementors?"
"Why didn't your patronus work Harry?"
Harry stared at the woman who had babysat Harry for years, the old woman who had fed him stale biscuits and showed him her cats.
"How do you know about magic?" he exclaimed.
"I'm a squib Harry, Dumbledore has told me to look after you, well, me and Mundungus bloody Fletcher. But he went and disapperated didn't he!"
Harry stared at Mrs Figg in shock, "You've been watching me all summer?"
The woman shifted her footing, "Well, yes."
"You could've stopped me from killing Dudley!"
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Harry knew they were true. Maybe if Harry hadn't have lost control and threw Dudley through the air then his cousin could've ran away.
Maybe if Harry's dreams and the voice inside his head hadn't have stopped him from producing his patronus then Dudley would still have a soul.
"What do you mean 'stopped me from killing Dudley'..."
Mrs Figg was cut off by a loud crack and three tall men wearing scarlet robes appeared.
"Harry James Potter, you have been accused of using underage magic to intentionally harm a muggle," one of the Aurors said flatly, waving his wand and muttering a spell.
Heavy cuffs appeared on Harry's wrists and his wand clattered on the cobblestones as the other two men collected Dudley's body and disapperated with another crack.
"Sir! Let me send a letter to Albus Dumbledore!" Mrs Figg pleaded, "He'll be able to explain!"
"Albus Dumbledore can explain in front of the Wizengamot," the Auror said, bending down to pick up Harry's wand and shoving it into his pocket before grabbing hold of Harry's elbow.
Another burst of anger shot through Harry at the man's touch. "Let go of me!"
"You will not try to escape," the Auror ordered.
"You know you want to Harry."
Harry's eyes widened at the sound of the voice.
"Do it."
"Shut up," Harry muttered through gritted teeth, squeezing his eyes shut.
"What was that?" the Auror asked.
"Just a little magic Harry..."
Harry's eyes flew open as the Auror yelled out and tore his hand away from Harry's arm, the skin red and blistering. Mrs Figg staring at Harry curiously, a small furrow between her eyebrows.
"Don't you ever try that again boy!" the Auror yelled muttering a healing spell on his hand, "Try anything like that again and it'll be more than a trial for you!"
"Well played Harry, I'm proud."
Harry felt another hand on his elbow and a sharp tug on his navel as they disapperated, Mrs Fig's face disappearing as they vanished into the night.