An de Souffrance

Chapter 1: Prologue (Edited : June 23, 2015)

Platform 9 3/4 was one of the places Harry James Potter held sacred, for it was one of solid proofs handed over to him, one of the places that erased his doubts of being a wizard. Even after acquiring his wand, owl, cauldrons, and what not, there had been a small part of him that feared the whole him being a wizard issue, to be a prank by the Dursleys.

The second he had emerged from the wall and stepped onto the platform and first hand witnessed the majestic one of a kind Hogwarts express he knew that he was a wizard. He would be off to Dursley free place, where he would be able to learn …. Whatever they taught Charms, Transfiguration, etc.

But the thought that had gained the most points in his heart of hearts was companionship, Friends. Something that he had been denied since his birth with the exception of few animals, for Dudley had seen to that. He had thought that he had friends, but how naive of think as such after the incident with Ron halway through summer.

He remembered stepping onto the same platform four years ago, his face all smiles on seeing the Hogwarts express, but now, seeing the same old train caused a small constriction to his heart. He looked around to find more than a few glares directed his way. Good thing that Sirius had calmly explained the situation to him. He was going to concentrate on his owls, whilst equipping his spell arsenal and keeping a low profile by avoiding his yearly death defying adventures.

He had a rising feeling that this year was going to be one of his worst, seeing as it had not started well beginning with the argument that had shaken Number 12 Grimmauld place from top to bottom. The nerve Ron had to claim that his actions were completely justifiable and the fault remained with him for coming behind him wagging his tail like a dog.

Hermione had been tearful and apologetic over the fact that she had chosen Dumbledore over her best friend. She had sincerely apologized, though he hadn't paid her any heed in the aftermath of his fight with Ron. He had poured all the frustrations that he had been bottling up the whole summer into the fight with Ron and had felt instantly better. A year ago, he would've felt bad for fighting with Ron as he had during the Triwizard tournament. But, Hell, he had had enough of the jealous prat behavior from Ron.

Summer had been rather tense with Ron and Harry on non-speaking terms. The arrival of the prefect badge had caused the tension in the air to climb to unimaginable levels. The smug look on Ron's face after he had received the 'P' badge had sent Harry's temper soaring that all the glasses in the room had shattered under the influence of his accidental magic. Sirius had sensed his godson's frustration and had rushed him to the attic where they both spent the rest of the day with Buckbeak with Sirius recounting his pranks and escapades with the other marauders.

His magic, now that was a separate problem. It was as if it was out of control. It was partly to blame for his restlessness. The powerful wards around Sirius's house had prevented the ministry from getting a second go at him as he had barely made it out of the trial for use of underage magic. Throughout the summer he had been staring at his wand with thoughts of doing some magic. He had never felt such an urge in previous years but the past summer had been overwhelming to say the least.

When the Dementors had attacked, his magic had reacted on its own accord, producing his patronus, acting as if it had been waiting to be called. One more fact that he had noticed while he was mourning over his expulsion was the case that he had not felt any amount of drain from his magic while he had cast the Patronus. Usually he would feel his magic being depleted to a certain extent after performing the spell, but he found this new change refreshing though he couldn't reason out the cause for the change. He had cast the same spell a few months back. He had done nothing to explain this sudden increase of his magical core.

The last but not the least of his problems was the old man, Dumbledore. Harry was slowly getting irritated by the fact that the old man was ignoring his presence. He had completely avoided him at the ministry after his hearing. At Grimmauld place, the old man had deliberately avoided facing Harry on more than one occasion.

Why he was doing this, Harry had no idea. The man had yet to ask him the full details of the happenings at the graveyard having not been present at school during the last weeks the term as McGonagall herself had acted as the Headmistress for the school. He suspected that the Headmaster had been out recruiting the Order.

He had given the gist of grabbing Cedric's body and the portkey and the details of the ritual but had collapsed from blood loss before describing the events of the duel, how Voldemort had struck him with the killing curse, how he had woken up with a severe hangover, to find his followers huddled around the unconscious from of their Dark Lord before he dragged his injured body towards Cedric and accio-ed the portkey.

Damn, he still had nightmares of the green jet of light from Voldemorts wand flying gracefully towards him, Cedric's body dropping dead, limp without any movement. He involuntarily shuddered. Two killing curses, and yet he still had no explanation as to how he had survived both, though he did have a vague idea on the first one. He had hoped for Dumbledore to provide an insight on the matter, but it seemed that the old man was keen on avoiding him.

Dumbledore be damn, he was going to give up on the old man. He was going to wait for the old man to take his time and set things right. Anyway he had better things to worry about, like the Prophet slandering his name. Harry wondered how many in Hogwarts would be willing to believe the Prophets lies. The students had all believed Dumbledore's explanation at the end of the term, well he would have to wait and watch.

He sighed as he received a few more glares inside the train as he began towards the back of the train searching for a compartment. 'Damn, guess Fudge has most of the students on his side' thought Harry as he wearily made his way past the glares and stares directed his way.

He found an empty compartment and slid into it He quickly pulled out his wand and cast a small notice-me-not charm on his compartment. He was sure that wasn't going to be getting any visitors save Hermione, for he was at the end of the train and no one would bother searching for the-Boy–Who-Lies seeing as he had killed another student for the sake of fame as the Prophet so eloquently put it.

He gave his wand a small smile as he felt his magic pulsating through it. It had happened quite a few times that summer, every time he had picked it up with the intention of using some spell or the other he had experienced a tingling sensation and he had hastily dropped fearing the use of underage magic. He sighed considering the fact that he had nearly been expelled even with all his control, though he idly wondered how the Wizegamot gathered to discuss the expelling of a case of underage magic. Were they all fools or did they not have anything useful to do with their time?

His first spell since 4th year, a Notice-Me-Not, he had used this particular spell in the maze last year to avoid plenty of Hagrid's devilish beasts. He shivered remembering his encounter with the Acromantula. He felt a slight jerk as the train started moving.

Seeing the slowly disappearing platform Harry waited for a few minutes enjoying the scenery before falling asleep, not knowing of the power behind the Privacy charm he had placed, not knowing that a certain bushy haired girl would never be able to find him even with her deliberately searching for him.