A Lone Journey

A Lone Journey

Disclaimer: Harry Potter world is JKR's. I'm just having a little fun :-) Thanks to her!!!

A/N: Read at your own risk! Don't flame me if I don't continue coz I don't trust myself, lolz. Oh and no beta read for this story so forgive me if there are any mistakes in grammar and all coz English is NOT my language. Thanks!!!

Chapter 1

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A teenage boy of about 17 year old was lying flat on the floor of his bedroom at number four Private Drive. His two green eyes scrutinized the grey cobwebs on the ceiling, some were very old that they were torn and threatened to fall down on the boy's head but some were of the recently product of the spiders which were running lazily as if waiting for their prey to show themselves. Somehow the spiders reminded him of Aragog who died of his old age in Harry's sixth year just a few months ago.

“Aragog,” Harry whispered to himself, “died. Dumbledore is dead too.”

The thought of the old man still brought back the pain in his chest regardless of how many times he spend on telling himself it was useless to morn over a death man in a time like this. Harry could not understand why he needed to come here now that Dumbledore was death. He knew it was for his own good but to Harry there was nothing left. His main goal in life was to conquer Voldemort, no longer did he care about his security or his own life now.

`Silly!' shrieked a voice in his head not for the first time. No matter how jumbled his mind was that voice was still reasonable and most of the time it was the only think that prevent him from packing up and flew of to find his destiny. It was so strange that sometimes he wondered if there would be another person living in him like Quirrell, the Defense Against the Dark Arts' teacher in his first year. Harry shivered involuntarily at the thought. But the voice in his head was only heard when Harry was thinking or doing something inappropriate or too risky. It couldn't be that evil after all it sounded similar to Hermione's voice.

It would be really silly now to fret over such thing. Only a few more days he would be off to the Burrow joining the other in Bill and Fleur's wedding. There would be a lot of people at the wedding. Harry didn't like the crowd but he was delighted at the idea of reunited with his friends. He missed them and most of all he missed Ginny.

Every so often, he thought about how he had decided to break up with her. He was devastated at that time; desperate to protect those he loved. He knew if Ginny were to be in any kind of relationship with him it meant that she was placed in a much more dangerous position than she already was in. So as much as he enjoyed her comfort present he knew he must let her go for her own good.

Harry sighed. He rose from the floor and walked to the small window of his room. Peering out he saw the slightly burned flower and grass covered the garden of number four Private Drive. It was a hot summer, hotter than the other years he remembered. The surroundings were boringly quiet. Most people preferred to spend time in their home to going out while the mid summer sun was hatefully glaring at them.

Droplets of sweat were forming on his forehead and neck. Harry wondered idly what were going on in the Wizarding world and most important of all what evil things were Voldemort and his followers doing. He, Harry Potter, should not be uselessly staying in here at this chaotic time. He should be out there with the members of the Orders or on his way finding the Hocruxes to defeat Voldemort.

Shocking his head resolutely, Harry turn back to his room. It was Dumbledore's wish that he were to stay here. He did not want to question think about it any more. Suddenly he caught sight of something leaped in a bush of flower. Quickly he drew out his wand and set his guard up. He looked searchingly at the bush that something or someone had disappeared into. He waited for a few long minutes but the bush looked as brown and still as ever. Harry shifted his gaze around the serene neighborhood. He could not believe that he was imagining thing but the quietness had proved that there was only him.

Lowering his wand Harry walked back in and at the same time there were a knock at the door insistently and Uncle Vernom's voice booming at him to open the bloody door.

Irritated, Harry placed his wand back into his pocket and opened his door just a little to reveal his uncle's red, angry face.

“What can I do for you, sir?” asked Harry sarcastically. Uncle Vernom's face was redder at the sarcasm in Harry's voice but he content himself knowing that Harry was able to use magic out side the school now that he was off age according to Wizarding law.

“There's...there's a man,” said Uncle Vernom, “he said he want to talk to you.”

Harry's expression changed. He frowned. “Who's that?” he mused to himself worriedly.

“I don't bloody know those of your kind!” bellowed Uncle Vernom, “go and ask him yourself!”

He turned his heels and walked back to the living room then stopped to add. “Be quick!”

Harry followed the trail of his Uncle. He found a tall, thin old man standing near Aunt Pertunia's beautiful elegant lamp stand in the living room. He was looking at the electronic lamp with an unreadable expression but for sure it wasn't one of the expressions that Mr. Weasley, Ron's father, would show when seeing such Muggle things. The Dursleys were sitting on a sofa looking wary as if expecting the old man to strike at any moment.

Upon Harry's arrival, the old wizard turned around to face him. The two of them stared at each other for a moment unaware of the tension they cased on the Dursleys nearby.

A long minute of silence passed slowly. None of them was willing to break the eyes contact. At the same time Harry was raking his brain for any trace of familiarity in the wizard in front of him. He had long grey hair and beard that were turning to the color of snow-white. His eyes were sky blue liked a pair Harry remembered quite well with only the lack of twinkles.

At this point that Harry realized who the man was. He opened his mouth to talk but was shut up by the other wizard who held out his hand with grim face.

“You know who I am, correct?” said he in a low voice, “I'm here to carry you a message from my brother.” He continued without waiting for Harry's reply.

“Yes, I know,” answered Harry anyway. He was curious as to what message Dumbledore had for him that need to be carried by his brother.

“He wished for you to continue on your study at Hogwarts,” Alberforth went on as thought Harry hadn't answered.

Harry was astonished at what Alberforth had just told him. What does it mean? How could Dumbledore have left such a message? Does it mean... does it mean that he knew? Harry's thought ran wildly over the possibility that Dumbledore might know already of his death. This slightly made Harry feel sick.

“How... how do you get that message?” he asked Alberforth.

“It's his wish for a long time ago since you first cam to Hogwarts,” answered the grey hair wizard, “and he knew I'm to carry his words to you one day.” He added looking away from Harry.

Although Alberforth's face was still impassive, Harry suspected that the brought back Dumbledore memory had touched him to an extent.

“Are there anything else?” inquired Harry as sense the awkward silence was about to fall on the two of them again and Uncle Vernom had chosen that moment to announce their presents by clearing his throat loudly.

“I got something for you too,” said Alberforth still ignoring the Dursley, “here.” He fished out from his inner pocket a small, red bag and handed it to Harry.

Harry looked at the bag in his hand and wondered what would be in there. However the idea of untying it right now seemed to be unwise. Alberforth looked at the Dursleys for the first time but did not address them. He drew his gaze back at Harry and said, “I hope you would consider my brother's word carefully,” he paused then looked at the bag in Harry's hand he said, “I don't know what content in the bag but I hope you would use it wisely.”

Without another words he twirled around and left. Harry stared after him for a second before Uncle Vernom's bellowing pulled him out of his reveries. Harry did not wait for the burst from the Dursleys he dashed out of the living room into his own.

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