Summary: After the Tri-Wizard Tournament and entering his fifth year at Hogwarts. One Harry Potter starts remembering things. Things that he's not sure are real, and things that he can't explain or would admit to their reality.

Our wands met. Green and red meeting one another. Surrounded by the many death eaters that swore fealty to the dark wizard, the one who must not be named, Lord Voldemort.

"Give up, silly boy,' he heard the monster within his nightmare suggest. He held his grip on his wand with all his might. He searched across the empty field catching the glowing trophy from the edge of his vision along with Cedric's dead body.

"I will never give up,' he bursts out giving the last of his strength into the last attack. Distracting the dark lord for a moment, giving him just enough time to cast the trophy back to his person; and arrive back to a thunderous crowd.

Harry woke up. Tears leaking. He rubbed his eyes. Getting the tears brushed away on his long, sleeved shirt, while reaching out for his glasses that were sitting on his bedside table. It had been a whole year since Cedric's death. When he saw Cedric die something within him changed. Like the warm aura that he usually gave off was now a much colder aura, and lifeless.

A flicker of light caught his attention. Lifting the covers off of him and standing up; he could hear the loud mutterings of his Uncle Vernon. The sound of keys jingling in the air left Harry with a sense of fear of what would happen this time. "You've done it now, boy!" he could hear his Uncle scream through the open crack of his door. Harry backed up, creating space between them. Well, until his door finally came to open in its entirety.

Revealing his maddened Uncle and his Aunt Petunia shying her eyes away from the act her Husband would commit. He pleaded with his eyes with his Aunt Petunia to save him from the hurt that her husband would inflict upon him. To no avail, though Harry was left screaming for it to stop. He was on his knees, his bare back exposed; exposing the welt marks that bared his skin.

He would not cry, he would not cry, Harry thought. When his Uncle whipped him repeatedly. He would not brake. Though it was easier said than done, as his Uncle Vernon reached into his pocket and grabbed a little rectangular bottle. Flicking the roller, until it caught producing a small flame. He could feel the heat radiating off of the portable lighter his Uncle held in his hand. As the flame burned parts of his skin that's when he broke. He screamed out for somebody to help him, to help rescue him from the torment of his relatives. However, no one heard him and soon he passed out into oblivion.

The next morning Harry felt terrible. Especially his back. Making sure to not make a sound he attempted to sit up. Although, he quickly regretted it. Instant pain shot though out his body as tears instantly dripped down his reddened cheeks. However, he remembered what day it was. And, finally smiled until his happiness overclouded the pain he felt. Today was when he would go to Hogwarts. His true home.

Limping to his door he heard a faint whispers. Detecting it was his Uncle and Aunt, Harry leaned into his door.

"We will be well compensated, Petunia. Don't worry everything is going according to the freak of a Headmaster's plan."

"What if the boy finds out?"

"Petunia dear, he won't find out. We've been very careful and the Headmaster assured us that the boy's memories are bound."

"But, they can break. Then what we will go to prison. I can't go to prison, Vernon."

"Don't worry, my dear. Everything will work out. "

Harry couldn't believe it. They were stealing from him! But, the real shocker was that of Dumbledore. What did he have to do in all of this? And, what memories did he forget?