The Letter

Harry Potter had been five years old when he left the hostile place that he was supposed to call 'home'. He had taken the few things that he owned – scrappy clothes and broken toys – and he had never looked back. The moment he stepped into the world, blinding lights and noises, and rushing people trotting about; he had known that he would have to learn to survive, even if he had always known that he could depend on no-one but himself.

He'd known that no-one would be there to rub his knee gently and kiss his forehead if he fell or got hurt. No-one would give him a bowl with warm broth if he got sick. No, Harry would never get anything he wanted, he would always come second, no matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried.

One day, he had stood by what could be called a small window in his small, freezing room. As he watched, tears ran down on his cheeks, emerald eyes lost and sad. Such sadness was rare to be seen on the eyes of such a small child, but nothing about Harry Potter was normal. His askew glasses hung lazily on his nose, his clothes, dirty and too small for him didn't cover him from the cold. One thin, pale hand hugged his shivering torso, and the other was pressed against the even colder window.

From the window he could see a scene of joy – this contrasted even more with the sadness in Harry's room and face. Childish laughter could be heard weekly, coming from the grounds, were his family was. James and Lily Potter seemed not to know their firstborn was watching from the distance, nothing could spoil this wonderful day with their youngest, the famous Charles Potter, the boy-who-lived.

For the longest time, Harry had desperately wished that he was like his brother. Charles had the most wonderful thing in life – not fame, or money or any material thing – no, Charles had love. The love and company Harry had wanted all his life, but would never get from the Potters. If only he left… If only he was someplace else, anywhere… Decided, Harry removed the hand for the glass, and set to pack.

That night, Harry Potter vanished from his home, intending to never return.

He had barely taken two steps when he had walked into one of the greatest adventures. He had gone back in time, trained with some of the greatest magic users, he'd made friends and enemies. He had cried, and laughed and screamed. But most of all, he had learned magic, its secrets, its truth. It had taken a long time to learn how to master energy magic – it was, after all, the ability to control all things which possessed it, which was practically everything, but he had managed it with the help from the people he had met and the experiences he had had while traveling, some bad, some very good.

After his journey was over, and he stepped back into the familiarity of his own time (now in his teens), he had decided he could do so much more than he could ever imagined with the knowledge and the power he had been given. If he had been given a second chance, why wouldn't he give others like him a way to gain one too? So he started to look out for any boy or girl who had been shunned by their families, and he took them in.

His friends, the people he took under his wing, were one of the reasons that he had stayed sane after everything that had happened between leaving home and meeting them – not that everyone knew the full story, of course. They were his kin, his family, and closer to him that his own biological one could ever hope of being. They had formed a group together, an organization known as the Lightning's and together, with other people they had met over the world, they helped the people in need and the innocents. Being children themselves, they had a special connection to saving the young, so they defeated the ones who tried to steal their lives or innocence, such as Lord Voldemort and his followers, the Death Eaters. But for Harry, sometimes known as The Nightmare, the fight was more personal. It was because of the Dark Wizard that his parents, Lily and James Potter, had shunned, ignored and punished him for everything, while Charles, his brother, was rewarded and adored.

Even with the safety of his new adopted family, Harry was threatened by his past, as proved when one day he was handed a suspiciously-looking piece of parchment.

On the top left corner, shiny emerald ink marked the letters: "Albus Dumbledore" with loopy, elegant handwriting.

The letter had arrived to the Lightning's home the previous week, and since then, Nightmare had read the words on it more than a couple of times. He knew what that specific letter meant for him, and he didn't know if he was ready to face the past after eleven years.

A light, feminine hand pressed against his arm, and he turned, smiling when he saw it belonged to Ginny, her long red hair flowing against her pale cheeks. She looked at him confidently, as always so sure of him, and his spirits lifted a little. He smiled at her weakly, knowing it looked more like a grimace and sighed, stealing another glance to the paper in his hands.

"Have you reached a decision yet, Night?" she asked, using a diminutive of his nickname, her warm brown eyes capturing his emerald ones.

Harry's heart melted a little at the sight of them. He had liked Ginny since a long time ago, but never did anything to change their relationship. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe they were meant to stay friends. Maybe, maybe, maybe…

He sighed yet again, his hand massaging the bridge of his nose, just on top of where his glasses rested.

"Not yet," he answered tiredly, finally answering her question.

"Please, say no, please say no…" he heard Draco moan loudly, making Harry remember that everyone was in the room, just waiting for him to decide.

"I really, really should say no," Harry confessed, looking again at the letter, before lifting his gaze and looking at them. "But if Hogwarts is really in danger, then all those kids are in peril too."

Hermione met his eyes with a knowing look, like she knew forehand what he was going to choose – which probably she did, with those brains – but said nothing as she held Ron's hand. Now that was an interesting story. It had taken a locked closet for them to finally give in and admit their feelings.

"I think we have to go," Harry exhaled, "If only because of the kids."

Draco and Blaise groaned in unison as he has met with smiles from Luna, Neville, Hermione, Ron and Ginny. Draco muttered, irritated, something that sounded like: "Of course it had to be because of the kids…"

Luna, on the contrary, clapped excitedly, making Neville smile warmly at her antics, before she exclaimed happily: "We are going to Hogwarts, we are going to Hogwarts…"

Ron and Ginny shared a smile. Harry knew that they had always wanted to go to the magical school, and was glad that he was able to help them achieve that goal, even if being back within the eye of undesired people caused him discomfort.

After all, these were his best friends, and he would do anything for them. He stood up, leaving the room to floo the Midnights, their friends over the world of their mission, leaving the letter for anyone to read.

Hogwarts in danger. Triwizard Championship.

-The Order of the Phoenix.