You Raise Me Up

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I do not own “You Raise Me Up”, a song by Josh Groban. I do not own this computer. I do not own anything besides my brain…and some days I wonder if I even own that. Please don't sue and lock me in Azkaban…I scare the other prisoners…

You Raise Me Up

Hogwarts Castle. A place like none other to most, with it's enchanting towers and many secrets. To some it's a torture chamber, built solely to trap students in and force them to learn. But to a very small group, consisting of, perhaps, one person, it was home. That one person's name is Harry Potter, a man who grew up belittled by his hateful relatives, and bullied by everyone else. He never knew love until he arrived at Hogwarts, the only link he truly had to his parents.

He met his two best friends there, learned that he was good at something that hadn't been thrust upon him, but rather passed down to him by his father, and perhaps even by his father's father. He discovered a talent that was so rare, it caused him to be further alienated until people realized the truth. He saved someone's life while nearly giving up his own. He met the closest thing to a father he would ever have, only to lose him a mere two years later.

He witnessed a friend's death and heard his parent's voices for the first time. He used his first unforgivable to avenge his godfather. He watched his best friend, no, that was an understatement. He watched his brother die in agony. For the first time, within the castle walls, he felt as if a part of him died. He learned a prophecy that would either end his own life, or force him to become a murderer.

He also fell in love. In love with a woman he vowed never to hurt, and a woman he vowed to protect and live for. This castle was indeed a place of great mystery, loss, and love. A place where only the strong will survive, a place where love will never die. Within these walls, a tale will unfold. A tale of death, a tale of suffering, a tale of the strength to keep going. Above all, it is a tale of love. A love that is unconquerable and will live forever, if only within the castle's walls.

This is their story…

Authors Note: Hey everyone, please leave a review and tell me if you like my little prologue! If you do I'll get the first chapter out pronto! Thanks - Sarah May - xoxo

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Chapter One

“Boy, you'd better be making breakfast!” Seventeen year old Harry Potter heard his uncle's voice boom from somewhere above him. He shuddered and slid the sizzling bacon out of the pan and onto a plate.

Harry Potter was in no way your average teenager. Sure, he liked girls, parties, more girls, and more parties; but he was far from average. Since he was barely one, he had been marked to kill or be killed; in other words, he was by far one of the most powerful wizards, alive or dead, ever. After his fifth year, the year his godfather died, he had been training for the fateful day - or days - when he would fight Voldemort and, hopefully, destroy him for good.

“Where's my breakfast?” Dudley Dursley whined, glaring at Harry as he seated himself on the bench at the table.

Harry said nothing as he set a plate before his immensely over-weight cousin, and proceeded to set plates laden with steaming food in his aunt and uncle's usual places. After he had cleaned all the pans, he sat down at the table to his small meal. Petunia and Vernon Dursley took their places at the table shortly thereafter and when they were all finished, left their dirty dishes to Harry.

“I'm going to town today and have made up a list of chores for you to do before I return,” Petunia told him a quarter of an hour later. She handed him a piece of paper with her perfect handwriting on it forming a rather lengthy list.

“Yes, Aunt Petunia,” Harry mumbled, watching as she walked over and out of the front door. He sighed as he looked over the list. Scrub the floors, mow the lawn, weed the garden, water the garden, dust, vacuum, do the laundry. “Well, it's going to be a long day,” Harry sighed as he walked into the garage to get the mower.

~*~*~

Nearly four hours later, Harry collapsed on his bed exhausted. He couldn't wait the four days until his seventeenth birthday, when he would finally be able to finish all of his chores in a matter of minutes. He rolled onto his side and his eyes automatically went to the latest picture of the “trio”. He smiled as Ron, Hermione, and himself waved at him enthusiastically. The war had been in full force since January, leaving a trail of broken families and lost loved ones in its wake. He was brought out of his reverie by the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Harry groaned as he pulled himself off the bed. The footsteps paused outside his door, but, after a few seconds, continued down the hall.

Harry moved to the door and opened it just in time to see his aunt disappear into her bedroom, the door clicking shut behind her. He sighed and walked across the hall to the bathroom and locked the door behind him. He almost didn't recognize himself when he looked into the mirror. Not that he had changed so much over the years that he was unrecognizable, because he looked just like his father, but more so the fact that he looked too old to be so young. The stress was weighing him down and even if you didn't know the reason why, you could tell he was troubled to no end.

The hot water did little to ease his tense muscles; he was on end to say the least. It was too much, he felt as if he would break at any moment. This was supposed to be his vacation; his time away from daily physical, mental, and defensive training. So much for that. Telling him to relax was like telling Voldemort that he could just take over, no fight or anything. Harry stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around his narrow hips, and walked back to his bedroom. He quickly got dressed and then pulled out his journal. He always had thought it was stupid, but Hermione had given it to him and told him that it was a good outlet; she kept one and thought it might help him. As always, she was right.

Harry opened to a blank page and across the top wrote the heading: Overwhelmed. Images swarmed through his mind and he started writing everything that came to mind. Sirius. Prophecy. Murder. Hermione. Future of everyone. Death. He unconsciously ran his hand through his all ready wild hair and then put his head in his hands and did the only thing a person could do when their life was caving in around them. He cried.

~*~*~

Harry slept through cooking dinner, eating dinner, doing the dishes, and cleaning anything else that had to be done. He dreamt of his parents and Sirius, Tonks and all the others. He parents looked so in love and Sirius was youthful and all signs of Azkaban were gone. Tonks' hair was pink with orange polka dots and her eyes were blue, their natural color. Harry called out to them, and the second he did, the scene swirled away and he was suddenly in the graveyard again and watched Cedric fall to the ground; but just as Cedric fell, he changed to Sirius, the same surprised look on his face. The dream was surreal to say the least, he felt like he was watching a movie, except he was in it, just not there. He watched himself writher in agony as Voldemort possessed his body. Then suddenly everything was black.

Harry awoke the next morning, not recalling any of it.

A/N: if you've seen “Ghost Ship” then it'll help with visualizing Harry's dream. It kind of like the part where the little girl is showing the lady (cant remember her name) what happened. I just want you all to know that this is a little shorter than the next couple chapters…but I've never been the best at long chapters - that's right! I envy all you ppl that write 20 page chapters! Lol…anyways, please review if you want more Thanks a bunches!

Sarah May

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Chapter Two

“I hate everything about you,

Why do I love you?

You hate everything about me,

Why do you love me?”

- (I Hate) Everything About You

-Three Days Grace

Harry awoke with a start. He scar was searing instead of its usual prickling. As he rubbed his forehead he glanced at the clock and noted that it was 12:01 a.m., his seventeenth birthday.

“No wonder he's pissed,” Harry grumbled, pulling the sheets off his boxer-clad body. As he made his way over to the window, he wondered when the heat wave, which had been in Surrey for nearly two weeks, would end. The cool breeze drifted through the open window, making it seem less humid. Harry spotted his favorite star Sirius after a few seconds. He couldn't recall how many times he had gazed at the constellation, wishing he could have his family back. His thoughts were brought to a halt when he noticed a snowy white owl soaring towards him out of the corner of his eye.

“Hey Hedwig,” Harry said softly as the bird perched on his arm. “What've you got there for me?” He undid the letter and package tied to her leg and put his arm out in front of her cage's door. Hedwig hopped in and hooted appreciatively before moving over to her water bowl. Harry grinned and turned his attention to the letter. His name was written across the front of it in Hermione's neat handwriting. He smiled before breaking the seal and unfolding the letter.

Dear Harry,

How are you? Things are going okay here. Happy birthday, you're so lucky you're seventeen and can legally do magic. I'm sooo jealous. Please don't do anything to permanently hurt your relatives…just scare them a little. I miss you so much and cannot wait until September 1^st so I asked my parents if you and Ron could come to my house for the remainder of the summer. Guess what? They said yes! So if you agree - which you'd better - we'll pick you up on August first at 11 o'clock. You can call me so Hedwig doesn't have to fly halfway across Britain just to deliver a yes. So I hope you enjoy your gift…it's not much, but I thought you'd like it.

Love you,

Mione

P.S.- I'll see you tomorrow!

Harry laughed out loud as he finished the letter; Hermione new him all too well. He set the letter on his desk and picked up the package, which was wrapped in shiny green paper and had a gold bow. He unwrapped the gift like it was Christmas, meaning it took him less than 3 seconds to have the present completely unwrapped. He removed the lid to the box and grinned. Inside was a book, but upon taking it out of the box, he discovered it was a scrapbook. The front cover read “Friends and Family”.

Harry opened to the front page and smiled at the picture of Ron, Hermione, and himself in their first year. They were so carefree then, well as carefree as they could be. The next several pages were filled with pictures from their years at Hogwarts and quotations and sayings sporadically placed between them. After about ten pages of school and the Weasleys, there was a picture of his parents. Harry wondered where Hermione had gotten it but didn't have time to dwell on it when he flipped to the next page. There were pictures of his late grandparents from both his mum and dad's side, others, who were obviously relatives, the Marauders, and his immediate family.

Harry didn't realize that he was crying until a tear splashed onto the book. He quickly wiped them away as he flipped to the last page. It had his parents' engagement announcement, his birth announcement, and finally, the obituaries of Lily Ann Potter and James Harold Potter.

Tears swam in Harry's eyes and he let them fall freely as he choked back a sob. A note fell onto his lap from the book and he picked it up and read, “Harry, Sirius gave these to me over Christmas and told me to do something special with them for you, it was hard to make but I hope that you love it. - Mione”

Harry set the note and the book on his desk before crawling under his blanket and falling asleep.

~*~*~

Dudley walked into the kitchen the next morning expecting his breakfast to be waiting for him, only to find Harry sitting at the table reading something. As he got closer, he noticed that the pictures were moving and waving up at Harry.

“Mum!” Dudley yelled, running into the next room. “Harry didn't make breakfast and he's looking at some book with moving pictures!”

Petunia jumped up from her seat on the couch and walked into the kitchen to find everything exactly as Dudley had told her. “What are you do-,” she trailed off when Harry looked up at her, his eyes blood shot.

“Why did you hate her so much?” He asked, his voice shaking.

“What?” Petunia questioned as she walked closer to him.

“Was it because she was a witch and you weren't?” Harry gulped, fighting to keep his tears back.

“You wouldn't understand,” Petunia replied, looking at the floor.

“I'm sure I would, if you'd let me,” Harry whispered. “They're all dead, you know; you're the only person left that knows anything about my parents that I don't already know. It's been so hard, not knowing them, feeling so alone and unloved,” Harry whispered as he looked into his aunt's eyes with his mother's.

“She was always so beautiful and smart. Everyone loved her and everyone wanted to be her; including me. She and your dad loved you so much. They wanted a truce with me, but I couldn't stand being wrong once again. Then when our parents were killed, I blamed her. She always wanted things to be okay between us, but I was too thickheaded to listen to her. I hated her. When we found you on our doorstep, I wanted to die. My baby sister was dead, thinking that I hated her. I'll never forgive myself for not listening to her when she wanted to talk. I'm sorry,” Petunia suddenly looked up at Harry, her eyes filled with tears. “You have her eyes you know. Exactly her eyes.”

“You can look at this if you want,” Harry offered, motioning to the book. With a wave of his hand it floated in front of his aunt and she slowly picked it out of the air with a trembling hand.

“Thank you,” she whispered, taking a seat next to him and they looked through the book together, Petunia explaining pictures she knew, and Harry just listened and smiled.

A/N: I wrote this just for you guys…I luv yous all! Now, I know that this might not happen, but I think that petunia really was just jealous of lily but deep down she really loved her to death. You don't all have to agree with that, but that's just what I want to think…so thank you for reviewing, now, if you've got any questions…ask me! Hahaha, so, I love you all because you all read my story…ill pray for you before I go to bed…lol…bubyes! Btw, the reason petunia spilled everything was because she felt like she was looking into lily's eyes…so yeah…

Sarah may

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Chapter Three

“I'm leaving tomorrow,” Harry told Vernon Dursley later that afternoon.

“You ruddy well are not!” Vernon bellowed, his face turning purple. “Do you think I'm going to pay someone else to do the yard work and clean the house when I've got you?” He asked incredulously, scrutinizing Harry as if he were mad.

“You can't tell me what to do, you know,” Harry replied calmly, pulling his wand out of his back pocket and twirling it in his hand.

“I know you can't use that! You'll be expelled from that freak school of yours and we'll be stuck with you!” Vernon smirked, though he sounded slightly unsure of himself.

“Oh, but there's your mistake. Since you've never remembered my birthday in the past seventeen years,” Harry began, putting emphasis on seventeen, “I didn't expect you to start now. In the wizarding world, where we do magic, once you're seventeen you're free to use as much magic as you want,” he paused to let him sweat. “As of twelve this morning, I've been able to use all the magic I want; including cursing you to hell and back without getting in trouble,” Harry finished just as calmly as he had started, thoroughly enjoying every minute of it.

“You're-you're lying!” Vernon choked out, though he was clearly sweating bullets.

“Dudley!” Harry called, and Dudley sidled into the room, looking between his father and Harry. Before Dudley could run, Harry had shot a curse at him, causing Dudley to squeal like the pig that he was, literally. Dudley was currently on all fours, running in circles while tripping around. Needless to say, he was not accustomed to being a pig.

“Change him back!” Vernon yelled, charging at Harry and knocking his wand out of his hand.

“Let me leave!” Harry yelled back, shoving his uncle away from him.

“Then change him back!” Vernon yelled again, his fat fingers reaching for Harry's throat. With a swish of his hand, Dudley was back to his old, fat self and running out of the room crying.

Before Vernon had the chance to get his hands around Harry's throat, he froze and fell over backwards, causing the entire house to shake. Harry smirked and looked down at his uncle saying, “Don't worry, it should wear off by tomorrow,” and then walking over to the phone to call Hermione.

Harry waited two rings when a voice answered on the other line.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is Hermione there?” Harry asked, leaning against the wall and glancing at his uncle.

“Just a minute,” the voice replied and was replaced by another voice.

“Hello?” Hermione asked, catching her breath.

“Hermione, hey it's-”

“Harry! Oh my god! How are you?” Hermione squealed on the other end of the phone.

“I'm good, just changed Dudley into a pig and back and stunned Vernon,” he chuckled and Hermione laughed.

“I can't believe I told you to do something like that…you and Ron are a bad influence on me,” she sighed, lying down on her bed. “I miss you,” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes.

“I miss you too,” Harry replied softly, wishing he could just hold her.

“We'll be there at ten,” Hermione told him, laughter in her voice.

“Getting early huh? Someone's a bit impatient,” Harry grinned, waiting for her reply.

“Uh! Would you rather we just leave you there?” She asked in a completely serious tone.

“You would never do that to me, you love me too much!” Harry laughed, as Petunia walked into the room.

“You're right,” Hermione sighed, though somewhat reluctantly.

“What was that?” Harry asked.

“I said `You're right'!” She giggled, completely out of character.

“What did you do to him!?” Hermione heard Petunia screech on the other end of the phone.

“Uh, Mione, I've got to go, but I'll see you tomorrow,” Harry told her, repressing a laugh.

“Okay, be good. I love you,” she told him.

“Love you too,” Harry replied, and they both hung up.

“What did you do to him?” Petunia asked again, though more calmly.

“Stunned him. Don't worry, he'll be up and about tomorrow,” Harry shrugged, and started towards the staircase.

“Who was that?” Petunia asked after a second.

“My friend from school,” Harry replied, slightly uncomfortably. He wasn't used to having his relatives care what he did.

“What's his name?”

“Her name is Hermione Granger,” Harry replied. “Now can I go? I need to get packed,” he pleaded.

“Okay, well, goodnight,” Petunia replied and walked into the kitchen, almost as if in a trance.

Harry took the stairs two at a time and bounded into his room. He couldn't stop thinking about the way his aunt had been just minutes before. If he wouldn't have known better, he would have thought she was under the Imperious curse, but he had been trained to sense such things. She seem to be in a daze, as if something was on her mind, consuming all of her thoughts. Maybe it had been from that morning when they had gone through the scrapbook. Whatever it was, he didn't have time to dwell on it because at that moment, a small bird ran into the side of his head.

“Pig!” Harry groaned, rubbing his temple. He quickly snatched the small bird out of the air before it could hit him again. Ron's untidy handwriting was covering the short note.

Harry -

Guess what! I'm in Romania right now visiting Charlie. Don't worry though, I'll be at Hermione's in about a week. (Give you two some alone time)

Harry laughed at this, images running through his mind, before continuing.

I'm going to wait to give you your birthday present in person. Have a happy birthday!

- Ron

Harry smiled as he took out a scrap piece of parchment and hastily wrote a reply to Ron.

Ron -

Will do, see you in a week and you know me too well! Have fun and tell Charlie I said hi.

- Harry

“Pig. Pig!” Harry yelled, jumping up to catch the hyper little bird. “You're a bloody nuisance, you know that?” He grumbled as he secured the note to the owl's leg before tossing him out the open window.

Harry returned to packing - doing it the muggle way just to waste time. He pulled out an old radio that was in a cupboard and flipped it on to the only working channel. After several minutes of the latest songs, the DJ came on air.

“We have an emergency bulletin. Just a few minutes ago, a mall in Birmingham was attacked leaving eleven victims, all of who have no visible signs of murder. These unnatural and unexplainable deaths have been occurring across the country, with no less than 300 reported deaths. Let's just hope that the gang or cult behind this is caught before any more killings can occur. I'm Alan Shepard and you're listening to London's Best, 237.8.”

The voice cut off as Harry slowly slid down the wall, the energy building inside him. He had to get out of this house or he would suffocate. He walked downstairs and outside, the cool night breeze calming him very slightly. He started down the sidewalk, anger raging inside him. He couldn't let his emotions control him, if he did, there was no telling what he could do to put others in danger. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly as he sat on the bench on the Dursley's front porch.

He had no clue how long he sat there before going up to bed, but he awoke the next morning feeling very stiff. He rubbed his eyes and glanced over at the clock. Although his vision was blurry, he could tell that it was past nine o'clock. He shot out of bed as if someone had burnt him with a fire poker. After grabbing a green polo and khaki shorts, he disappeared into the bathroom to take a quick shower. After his shower he returned to his room and put on his glasses, noting that it was 9:57, and Hermione was never late.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang followed by Dudley's heavy footsteps, which seemed to shake the entire house. Harry put any extra things he had forgotten the previous night and threw them on top of the heap inside his trunk. Slamming the lid, he waved his hand and the trunk rose into the air behind him, and followed him to the main floor. He could see Dudley talking to a very annoyed Hermione, who obviously hadn't gotten a word in since he opened the door.

“'Mione,” Harry smiled, walking around Dudley and wrapping Hermione in his arms.

“Harry! I've missed you so much. How are you?” Hermione asked, kissing him gently on the lips.

“A lot better now that you're here,” Harry grinned, nuzzling her neck.

“C'mon, my parents are waiting in the car,” Hermione told him, pulling him by the arm.

“Just a minute, I need to tell my aunt goodbye,” Harry replied, and was forced to bring her with him, as she wouldn't let go of his arm.

“Are you leaving?” Petunia asked when they entered the sitting room.

“Yeah, I just wanted to say goodbye,” Harry told her.

“Well, I'll see you,” Petunia smiled half-heartedly.

“Bye then.”

“Goodbye, Harry. I'm proud of you,” she added, staring into her teacup. Harry just smiled before pulling Hermione down the hall, out the door, and into her parent's waiting car.

A/N: I hope you all like it…all I want is some reviews…you guys really have no idea how much this means to me…so I appreciate every sentence you write. Thanks again, now u no what to do now! REVIEW! Lol…hahhaha…luv ya all! By the way…Alan Shepard was the radio dj where I'm from!!

Sarah May

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