Disclaimer: This story is based on characters, settings, and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling as published by, including and not limited, to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. The use of these characters and settings is for entertainment purposes only; no infringement is intended or should be inferred.
Prologue
The summer day appeared peaceful to any who passed by Privet drive, but it was not for a certain sixteen year old. The young man's skin looked slightly pinched as though he had been subsisting on just enough to survive; although, truth be told, he did during the summers. He had raven hair that seemed alive in that it went everywhere but where the unfortunate recipient wanted it to. The young man also wore round glasses that only slightly hid the vibrant green eyes that showed his emotion, to those who knew him, clearer than his actions ever could; however, they also showed the haunted soul of a boy forced to become a man, and in the process, had seen more death than one could possibly believe of anyone of his years. And there, just above his eyes, was a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt. This held its own dark story in that what caused it should have been the death of him; just as it had been for his parents and countless others.
For this young man and the scar on his forehead were as far from ordinary as one could be. He was Harry Potter a survivor, orphan, hero, friend, enemy, and a wizard. The scar on his forehead was a failed curse flung at him by the most powerful evil wizard of the century, and by all rights it should have killed him.
Currently, Harry was pacing in his bedroom of number four and looking at a photo. Ordinarily this photo of a young woman wouldn't have been something to concern oneself with, except that this photo was moving. The other thing that would draw someone's attention would have been Harry's muttering. "What would she say if I told her how I feel? Could I handle it if she doesn't feel the same way?" These questions, and the like, were plaguing his already overburdened soul and mind.
He smiled, and then a rather unpleasant thought hit him. What would Ron say? Harry knew that his friend had had a crush on the young lady in the photo. The person in the photo just smiled and waved at Harry. She appeared to be the same age as him with brown hair that had a similar life to Harry's but, in his opinion, it looked good on her and wasn't nearly as wild. Her cinnamon eyes were filled with joy and tenderness.
"Hermione," he said the name of the one who had taken his heart long before he even realized it. Harry walked over to his bed and sat down still gazing, almost longingly, at the picture. It was then he tried to remember when it was that he had fallen for the lovely young witch. Not in the common sense of referring to a woman as a witch but instead as a being of magic. Hermione's picture stopped waving and gave him a stern look, almost as if to say ask and find out.
Harry smiled at this before pocketing the photo and then gazed about the room. It was a depressing site for it held little in the way of anything. Its furnishings consisted of a desk, bed, wardrobe, and a bird cage whose occupant was currently hunting for her evening meal. There also happened to be a trunk and, Harry's pride and joy, a Firebolt racing broom.
Again the young wizard's thoughts strayed to the lovely witch. He, once again, began trying to determine when he had first fallen in love with her. Was it their first year at Hogwarts (School of Witchcraft and Wizardry) when he saw her about to be killed by a mountain troll, was it when she stood by his side fourth year believing him when no one else did, or was it when she fell at the department of mysteries and all he could think of was whether she was alive or not. It was all these moments and more that had made him realize that he was in love with this wonderful person. He knew that if anything happened to her he probably wouldn't want, or even try, to go on. The smile he had fell and turned into a haunted expression as another thought hit him.
If I tell her she will become a target for Voldemort. God, I can't do that to her; I can't risk it she should be safe.
Still inside another voice, the one that sounded so much like Hermione, said. <Don't be stupid Harry she's already a target; remember she is your friend, she's a Muggleborn and she has fought and bested Death Eaters alongside you! Just tell her, and remember that you will do anything to keep her safe including taking an Avada Kedavra curse for her!>
Again, Harry smirked at how she could lecture him without even being there. That voice was right; he would do anything to make sure that she would be ok no matter what happened to him. His stomach flipped as he thought of her and twisted as he again wondered what he was going to say to her.
Harry looked down at his books, parchment, and ink and sighed at the fact that his summer homework was done. Hermione's starting to seriously rub off on me. Immediately after thinking this another thought stuck him, focused on a less clothed version of the young witch. Damnit, get your mind out of the gutter Potter!
Finally, he looked around the near vacant room once more and decided to get a little rest. Just as he was getting comfortable a tapping was heard at the window.
"I'm up aunt Petunia…" wait a second that was the wind-. Harry's eyes snapped open and then to the window. Outside the window was a hovering and grinning Remus Lupin. Harry just felt his jaw go slack and a dumfounded expression form on his face. Quickly, he got out of bed and opened the window. "Remus, what the hell are you doing here?" He demanded even as he grasped the man's outstretched hand.
"I though that would be obvious Harry; we're heading back to headquarters," Remus replied, and Harry grew suspicious immediately.
"What form does my Patronus take?" He demanded.
"A Stag."
"What did you tell me before I left for this summer?"
"I said 'tell her soon. She deserves to know.' Honestly Harry you're almost as bad as Ali-" Remus was suddenly cut off as Harry had practically flung himself at him and gave him a fierce hug. Remus just chuckled and asked Harry how long it would take for him to pack. Harry just looked at him and asked if Remus could take care of that while he wrote a note to the Dursleys. After the note and packing were done he looked at Lupin as if to say only one guard?
Remus just grinned, pulled out his wand and a glove, and tapped it saying, "Portus." The glove glowed blue and then dimmed again. Remus then held the glove out to Harry who, holding his belongings, touched it and both felt a tug behind the navel.
All too suddenly the ground caught up with him, and he fell to the ground with a loud thud. When Harry looked up he was shocked to see his rival Draco Malfoy smirking at him.