Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to Harry Potter. Everything belongs to that wonderful genius, J.K. Rowling.
Author's Note: This is my first fanfiction. Special thanks go out to Pen for getting me my author's account, Whitney and Jessica for being my betas, and Nitya just because. This goes out to all of them.
Harry Potter and the Mysteries of Love
CHAPTER ONE
COPING WITH THE LOSS
Summer was the worst time of year, especially if you had to spend it at number four, Privet Drive. For fifteen year old Harry Potter, life couldn't get much worse than spending his summer holiday with his terrible relatives, the Dursleys.
They had always treated him badly ever since he had arrived on their doorstep at the age of one. But when he discovered the secret six years ago that Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon kept, they treated him even worse. For you see, Harry was a wizard. And every summer he'd return from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to whittle away the hours until the next term started.
All was quiet around Privet Drive as most people were still in their beds asleep as the sun kissed the horizon. And in the smallest bedroom in number four, Privet Drive, Harry Potter thrashed in his bed as powerful images played in his mind.
"Come on, you can do better than that!"
The second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest.
The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock. His body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backward through the ragged veil hanging from the arch, a look of fear and surprise on his wasted, once-handsome face as he fell through the ancient doorway and disappeared behind the veil.
"SIRIUS!" he screamed as he jerked awake. His whole body was covered in a cold sweat and a chill ran down his spine.
Yes, life could get worse than spending the summer with the Dursleys. Much worse.
Harry took in a shaky breath as he laid back down in his bed, the memories of his godfather's end still echoing in his mind. The shock that he'd never see Sirius Black's face ever again haunted him wherever he went and whatever he did. And he, Harry, felt he'd never be whole again.
The next thing he heard was a sharp rap on his door and the shrill voice of his Aunt Petunia yelling at him to get up. Harry swung his legs over the side of his bed and then rested his head in his hands, trying to control the surge of emotions that wanted to pour from him.
When he felt ready, he stood up and searched around for a clean set of clothes. He had let his room fall into disarray after returning and didn't care at all to clean it up. All he wanted was for Sirius to come back and to tell him everything was okay and nothing was going to happen. But he knew that would never come.
He pulled on his clothes, ran a hand through his unruly black hair, adjusted his round glasses over his once bright emerald eyes, and headed downstairs to the kitchen, where Aunt Petunia was waiting.
"Well it's about time," she snapped. "Now get breakfast started."
He didn't argue; he did not feel like it. He simply got out a skillet and some eggs and started to fry them. The only thing he felt was slightly lucky that the Dursleys had finally given up on his cousin Dudley's diet. It meant that he could eat real food again.
By the time he had finished cooking the eggs and plenty of bacon, his Uncle Vernon, a big man with a huge mustache and very little neck, and Dudley, who was big enough to occupy one whole seat on a school bus, had arrived and were sitting down, waiting to be fed. Vernon looked up from his newspaper scathingly at Harry when his plate was delivered.
"I suppose I'll have to take you in for another haircut before Marge arrives," he muttered as Harry gave Dudley his plate.
Aunt Petunia sat down with her plate and a cup of tea. "Ah yes, you told me last night. When is the dear arriving?"
Harry, who hadn't heard that his viscous Aunt Marge would be arriving at all, sat down angrily with his plate and orange juice.
"Tomorrow. She said she's bringing Ripper with her again," Vernon replied.
"I can't wait to see her," Dudley said eagerly.
Harry snorted under his breath. Of course Dudley wanted to see her, she always gave him money.
Vernon was studying Harry again. "No, forget the haircut. It's just a mop of ragged filth anyway."
Harry said nothing. He just continued to look down into his plate of eggs.
"You keep out of Marge's way, you hear? I won't have you-you blowing her up again," Vernon said, purple starting to work its way into his face.
"I won't blow her up just as long as she doesn't get me angry," Harry snapped back. "If she says anything about my mother-"
"Your mother deserves all the criticism she gets," Vernon spat.
Dudley finished off his meal and jumped up. "Gotta run," he said with a grin. This surprised Harry. Usually his favorite activity was hearing his father yell insults at Harry.
"Good-bye, Diddy. See you later," called Aunt Petunia as Dudley grabbed his leather coat and headed out.
Harry sat back, watching his uncle closely. "My mother was a good person."
Both his aunt and uncle glowered. "We will not discuss her," Petunia said fiercely and jumped up, snatching Harry's plate along with her own.
"I don't see why Marge must come here with that pathetic dog of hers," Harry grumbled as the remaining food on his plate was scraped into the garbage.
Uncle Vernon looked furious. "That's Aunt Marge to you! And don't you go asking rude questions again, boy!"
Harry rolled his eyes as his stomach garbled. Uncle Vernon, seeing this, snapped.
"Don't you go rolling your eyes at me boy! We took you in when we didn't have to! We could have given you to an orphanage! But we kept you, out of the kindness of our hearts, even though we knew you'd be nothing but a scruffy lowlife! We should have just kicked you out the moment you started to cause problems," Vernon bellowed.
"You should have just kicked me out," Harry repeated, "the moment I started to cause problems." He laughed, cold and angry. "Don't pull that crap on me. I know the truth. I know why Aunt Petunia received that Howler last year. 'Remember my last, Petunia.' That's what it said. You can't get rid of me until I choose to leave."
Uncle Vernon looked very angry now. "Get out," he whispered malevolently. "Get out right now and don't come back until you've learned some manners!"
Harry jumped up and eyed his uncle with an equal amount of rage. "I'll leave," he told him, "but you won't like where I'm going. And you definitely won't like who I'll be talking to."
He stalked away as Vernon jumped up. "No!"
Harry swung around. "What?" he demanded.
"Don't-don't go talking to those friends of yours. You don't have to leave," he pleaded.
If he wasn't so consumed with rage, he would have actually laughed at the situation. Instead, he turned on his heel and walked out the door.
He was instantly bathed in the morning sunlight as he crossed the Dursleys' front lawn and headed off towards Magnolia Crescent. He didn't really know where to go but he knew he had to get away from his relatives.
He thought about going to the park but immediately scratched that idea. The park was going to be crowded on such a fine July day and all he wanted was to either be alone or talk to someone who could understand him.
But no one understood him, not anymore.
He scowled as he walked. No, not a single person understood him anymore. The last person to understand him in every single way was now dead and never returning. He was completely alone.
And what about Ron or Hermione? asked a voice in his head.
No, they wouldn't understand. Neither Ron nor Hermione had ever faced death like he had. They would never be able to understand why he was having such a hard time coping with the loss of his godfather. They had never felt such pain.
True, his best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, had been a great asset to him. He wouldn't have been able to do half the things he had done in his time at Hogwarts without their help. Each of them had dealt with their share of scrapes and somehow had managed to come out okay in the end, but neither had faced the biggest scrape of all-facing Harry's nemesis, Lord Voldemort.
Voldemort, a man (if you could call him a man) who's name many wizards feared to speak, had murdered Harry's parents nearly fifteen years ago. Harry had managed to escape thanks to his mother's sacrifice, placing a protection on her only son. Voldemort's powers were diminished while Harry gained his legendary scar. But now that Voldemort had returned to power, Harry was aware of what the Dark Lord was doing. His scar tingled a lot and he had felt great bursts of pain time after time telling him Voldemort wasn't pleased. And why should he be? Harry had once again thwarted him by taking away the one thing he wanted for a full year-a prophecy made about both him and Harry. A prophecy Harry knew because Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster at Hogwarts, was there to hear it and knew the prophecy in its entirety. Voldemort was probably thinking of some other way to hear the prophecy, or maybe he had just forgotten about it and was planning on how to kill Harry right at this very moment.
Harry heard footsteps come up behind him. He stopped, turned, and came face-to-face with his beefy cousin Dudley and his gang of ruffians.
Dudley smiled broadly with an evil glint in his eye as his gang cracked their knuckles menacingly. "Well, well, well," Dudley said triumphantly, "look who we have here. If it isn't the freak, Harry Potter."
"How's St. Brutus's, Potter?" sneered one of Dudley's friends, Piers Polkiss.
Uncle Vernon had once made up a story that every fall Harry went off to St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys. Harry imagined that once Aunt Marge arrived he'd have to keep up the fiasco. But it was very apparent that Dudley had fed the same story to his gang.
"Pleasant as always," Harry snapped back. "Did Dinky Diddydums tell you how many times I get caned while I'm there?"
Dudley purpled as well as his father as a few of the boys laughed while others gasped.
Dudley took a step forward. "I've been waiting fifteen years to do this…"
Harry took an immediate step back as some of the members of Dudley's gang shouted, "Get him, Big D!" or "Rip him apart Dud!"
Dudley swung and Harry managed to miss the first blow, shouts of "Get him, Big D!" still being yelled. Dudley tried to hook him but Harry swerved. Finally, Dudley settled on a couple of jabs, one of which connected with Harry's jaw magnificently.
Harry rubbed his jaw as Dudley plowed his fist right into Harry's gut. Harry wheezed but dodged the next punch and said, "You'll pay for that Dudley. I'm not going to say how, but I will say that it has to do with some of my friends. Y'know, like the one with the eye."
Dudley backed away immediately. "W-What?"
"You know what I'm talking about. I'm due to talk to them again too," Harry told him and watched the panic rise in his cousin's eyes.
"Who's he talking about Big D?" asked Gordon, another one of Dudley's friends.
Harry smiled. "Oh, I've got some friends at St. Brutus's. Friends who like to make sure everything's going okay for me. One of them murdered his neighbor's dog because it looked at him funny." Several of the gang members gulped. Harry turned back to Dudley. "Well, I guess I'll be seeing you, Diddy."
He walked away, heading up the street once again. He didn't stop until Dudley's gang was out of sight. Then he paused and rubbed his jaw again.
Now what was he going to do? If he headed back, he'd either run into Dudley or go back to a very bad tempered uncle. Where was he to go? He suddenly wished he could head to the Burrow to spend time with Ron and the Weasley family.
No, not yet. I'm not ready to talk yet, said a voice in his mind.
So he'd put up with the Dursleys for a while longer, until he was ready. But what about right now? He couldn't possibly go back to Privet Drive yet.
He heard a noise on the other side of the street and swung around. Sitting on the pavement on the other side of the street was a cat, one that Harry thought he recognized. He stared at it for a minute until he realized that it was Mr. Tibbles, one of Mrs. Figg's cats. He watched the cat for a moment as it eyed him from across the street.
Probably sent to spy on me, Harry thought angrily as he walked on, but he stopped again. The cat probably was sent to watch after him, because the wizarding world needed Harry alive and walking out and about like he was wasn't the greatest of things for him to be doing. He could get attacked by the dementors, the Azkaban guards, again.
Harry turned back, thinking about having to face his uncle again when he stopped for a third time and looked at the cat again. Of course, how could he have been so stupid? Why should he go back to the Dursleys while the Order would welcome him with open arms? All he would have to do was talk to Mrs. Figg and get her to talk to a member of the Order for him, maybe even Dumbledore himself.
He eyed the cat one last time as he headed off and down the road Mrs. Figg lived on. He was well aware that the cat was following him down the block as he made his way to Mrs. Figg's house.
He stepped up to the door and sighed. I can't believe I actually want to go into Mrs. Figg's home, Harry thought. I must have lost my mind. He knocked three times and waited. As he stood there, he could already smell the sent of cabbages and cats. He groaned inwardly.
When Mrs. Figg opened the door, she gave Harry a worried look. "Come in, come in," she said, ushering him inside.
He stepped in, Mr. Tibbles following right behind him. He suddenly thought how strange it must seem to Mrs. Figg. He shouldn't be bothering her with such stupid teenager emotions.
"Would you like some tea?" she asked as she bustled about. "I wasn't expecting you to come over, but it is a pleasant surprise."
"Er-thanks. Yeah, I'll take some tea," Harry replied.
"It's actually good that you arrived. An Order member is supposed to arrive here shortly, to see how everything's doing," Mrs. Figg was saying as she led Harry into the kitchen.
"Okay," Harry murmured and sat down in the seat she motioned to as she got out the makings for tea.
"Those Muggles haven't been treating you badly, have they?" she asked as she studied him.
"The same as always," he replied as one of her cats rubbed up against his leg.
"Really? Then what's that forming on your chin? Looks like a bruise to me. You haven't been fighting, have you Harry?"
"What? Oh, no-I sort of had a small run-in with my cousin and his gang," Harry explained hastily. "But I gave him a good scare."
"You be careful around those lousy Muggles. That Dursley boy is nothing but trouble. A big fat pig, if you ask me."
Harry couldn't help it, he smiled. "That describes him accurately."
Suddenly, there was a loud crack in the living room and Harry jumped. "Ah, that'd be our Order member now. I'll just go greet him."
Mrs. Figg headed out and Harry listened hard for snippets of the conversation.
"You'll never believe who's here," came Mrs. Figg's voice. "Come in, he's in the kitchen."
Harry jumped up as Mrs. Figg returned to the kitchen accompanied by a man who Harry hadn't seen in a month.
"Hello, Harry," Remus Lupin greeted.
"Hello, Professor Lupin," Harry replied and sat back down.
"How is it at the Dursleys'?" he asked as he joined Harry at the table.
"Same as always," Harry answered.
"What's going on? It's not like you just to drop by for a visit," Lupin said as Mrs. Figg poured tea into three cups.
"He and his cousin got into a fight," Mrs. Figg said as she handed Lupin his cup. "Can't you see the bruise?"
Lupin looked at Harry for a moment, then said, "I'll inform Dumbledore. I don't know what he'll do."
Harry took his cup from Mrs. Figg, thanked her, and took a sip as Mrs. Figg ranted. "Those Muggles should treat this boy with a bit more respect. He's defeated You-Know-Who so many times. He's a hero."
Lupin didn't seem to acknowledge this. Instead he asked, "Have you received any letters from Ron or Hermione lately?"
"A few days ago. Neither said much. Ron said that Percy's finally reconciled with his family and Hermione's just waiting for the O.W.L. results to come in."
"That sounds like Hermione," Lupin said with a smile. "So what's happening with the Dursleys?"
"Aunt Marge is coming with her stupid dog," Harry spat angrily.
"Is she the one you blew up a few years ago?"
Harry nodded and Mrs. Figg let out a snort of laughter. Lupin chuckled thoughtfully.
"I've already warned Uncle Vernon that if she says anything about my mother I might blow her up again," Harry said.
"So is that why you blew her up last time? Because she said something bad about Lily?" Lupin looked rather thoughtful for a moment. "I don't see how anyone could say anything bad about Lily. She was the most kind-hearted person any of us knew." He chuckled. "I remember how James had such a crush on her. Every time she passed he'd mess up his hair. Siri-" He cut off, seeing the anguished look on Harry's face.
"I'm sorry, Harry. It's affecting me as well. He was like a brother to me, even if he was more so to James. But I have to keep remembering all of the great things about him-all of the fond memories I have of him to keep going. It's hard, I know."
Harry stayed silent. A wave of emotion was threatening to break through the dam he was building inside of himself.
"You know, Harry, we can talk," Lupin said gently. "He was my friend too."
Harry stayed silent still. He didn't need to talk about him yet. He couldn't talk about him yet.
"Would you mind, Harry, if I just sat back and told you some stories about him? I've got a bunch of good ones. Would it be okay?"
Harry sat there in turmoil. As much as he wanted to shout out that he wouldn't, he nodded his head weakly.
Lupin sat back and took a sip of his tea before he began. "I remember the first day I met Sirius. He and your father were already inseparable. It was during the welcoming feast after we all had been sorted. James and Sirius were congratulating each other on making Gryffindor. I was sitting pretty close to them and was pretty nervous, considering that I'm a werewolf and all and I didn't think I was going to have any friends.
"The first thing I noticed about them was that they, from the start, were very mischievous. Sirius put a spell on one of the other first years at our table-a boy by the name of Peter Pettigrew." Both Lupin and Harry scowled. "I laughed and James turned to me and introduced himself, Sirius following suit. Then James said, 'If you liked that, just wait to see what we're planning to do to one of those Ravenclaw girls over there after the feast.' So after the feast I followed them and James performed a spell that made the girl's skirt fly up, revealing her knickers."
Mrs. Figg rolled her eyes and muttered something that sounded like, "Immature boys."
"Sirius wanted me to try it," Lupin continued, "and so I did. I never thought I'd see the day when two girls blushed such a shade of red. James and Sirius liked me and for the first time in a long time, I had friends, and I liked that. I didn't care what I did, as long as I had those two with me, I had fun."
He took another sip of his tea. "Oddly enough, I don't remember when we let Peter into the group. Maybe when we decided it wasn't fun to pull pranks on someone who actually enjoyed it. Peter was such a rat, pardon my pun."
Harry frowned. But he had to admit, he was enjoying hearing about Sirius and his father. He had always thought the Marauders were interesting.
"It was later, when James, Sirius, and Peter became Animagi that we developed our nicknames. It was like our own secret code to be able to send notes signed by 'Mr. Moony' or 'Mr. Prongs'. And then of course we made the Marauder's Map. We knew so much about Hogwarts it was scary.
"I remember one time when James and Sirius went to go investigate a new passageway Sirius had stumbled into during the day that they came back scratched up and bleeding. Apparently, Sirius had found a hall with knights who liked to swing their maces at anyone who passed. That was quite a night getting them back into shape before classes the next day.
"Oh, and then there was the day in seventh year when Lily and James went on their first date in Hogsmeade. Sirius and I were determined to have a little fun that day and so we hung out at the Three Broomsticks until Lily and James showed up." Lupin chuckled again. "It was terrible. We secretly jinxed James so that he'd keep kicking Lily. She was so mad she stormed out. Come to think of it, I can't remember a time when James was so mad either. He came right over to our table and gave us a good swift kick that took the smirk right off Sirius, Peter, and mine's faces. We never meddled in their dates again."
"You guys really did have a lot of fun, didn't you?" Harry asked quietly.
"Yeah, it was great, even if we were completely stupid at the time. Peter and I were only bad when James or Sirius were and Lily straightened James out right away. Soon Sirius mellowed out too."
"He shouldn't have been cooped up like that," Harry said suddenly. "He should have at least been allowed to visit someone."
"Harry, if he had been spotted, he would have been back in Azkaban and I know you wouldn't want that," Lupin said gently.
"Is that traitorous house-elf, Kreacher, gone yet? Did someone kill him yet?" Harry asked fiercely.
"Harry, Kreacher is under control now. I know it's hard to know whom to blame for Sirius's death, but don't blame the house-elf, or Dumbledore, or even yourself. Remember, Bellatrix Lestrange is the one who hit him with that spell and sent him behind the veil. If anyone deserves to be punished, it's her."
"I know. And one of these days, she will pay," Harry said quietly.
Lupin didn't say anything for a moment and then he murmured, "I don't think Lily and James would want you to become a murderer."
"It doesn't look like I have a choice," Harry snapped back.
Lupin looked appalled. "What?"
Harry scowled. "Dumbledore didn't tell you the prophecy, did he?"
"No, he didn't," Lupin replied.
"Then ask him about it sometime," Harry advised. "Then you'll see I have no choice but to become a murderer."
Lupin stared at Harry for a long time and then finished off his tea. "I'll do that," he said and stood up. "Arabella, thank you for the tea."
"You're welcome," replied Mrs. Figg. "Are you going to try to get Harry out of that terrible Muggle home for the rest of the summer?"
"I'll do the best I can, but there are no guarantees. I'll see you around, Harry," he said.
"Yeah, bye."
And with a loud crack, Lupin was gone.
Mrs. Figg looked at her watch. "Dear Lord, look at the time! While I enjoyed your visit Harry, you must be getting back to those retched Muggles. I told Dumbledore that I'd make sure you didn't stay out for too long. Now go on."
"Yes, ma'am," Harry said reluctantly and put his cup down. "Thanks for the tea."
"Of course, now let's get going," she said and ushered Harry out the door. "Hurry home quick-don't know what's lurking behind the bushes."
Harry nodded and without a backward glance, he headed on his way back to Privet Drive. As he walked, he saw Dudley's gang across the street on a corner smoking cigarettes, guffawing dumbly as Dudley told them some joke. Harry passed by quickly and luckily, they did not see him.
He didn't see anything else and soon he was on the doorstep of the Dursley's again, not wanting to go in. He looked out over the street and watched as a mother called her young son inside. Would his mother have had to do that if she was still alive? Would she have had to call Harry in when it was time to go eat lunch?
He had missed so many things in his life because that he didn't have any parents. The Dursleys didn't care about him and by the time he had met Sirius, he had been too old to do such simple things like play catch or other things fathers and sons did.
But Sirius was not his father; he was just the closest thing to it.
And now he was gone.
Harry sighed and sat down on the steps. He wished that he could return to the wizarding world, where people knew who he was and respected him. That was, when the Ministry of Magic didn't want to make him look like an utterly insane idiot. Otherwise, without the immediate danger of Voldemort, the wizarding world was an absolutely perfect world, where he didn't have to worry about Aunt Marge coming over or whether or not Uncle Vernon was going to yell at him again.
But no, he was forced to spend his summer in the Muggle world, with no magic, no friends, and no respect.
He sighed again and got up. With one last look around Privet Drive, he opened the front door and entered the place that Harry could describe with one word: Hell.