A/N:This story is the sequel (and also beginning) of Whispered Words, while you technically don't have to read the other tale to enjoy this one, it does give you a bit of background information that likely won't be discussed in detail for this fic. I hope everyone enjoys this tale and the adventures to come.

And now…

Onwards…

Declaimer: Characters belong to J.K. Rowling (besides my OC)

There was a certain peace that one could only find when they are hidden amongst shrubbery. The sun seemed to illuminate the green foliage, casting different hues of light onto the quiet sanctuary. The heady scent of flowers and herbs seemed to lull one to a sense of calm, and made staying awake a most difficult chore.

Harry lay within this small haven, his messy hair tangled with leaves and earth. A wry smile rested on his chapped lips as he wrapped his too thin arms around his waist. Dark green eyes were filled with fatigue as he lazily watched the sun set from his hiding place in the park. He could still hear the harsh and spiteful laughter of Dudley's old gang and didn't want to risk catching their attention by moving even the slightest bit. After the previous night's beating for a shattered glass cup, Harry had come to the quick decision to try and stay unnoticed for the remainder of his summer at Private Drive.

It seemed that the older he became, the more vicious his Uncle would behave towards him. Not to mention Dudley's old gang had no qualms over making him their target whenever they saw him walking around. He'd lost count over just how many times they had ganged up on him, beating him with their fist, or simply taking turns kicking him when they finally ran out of energy. To his dark amusement not even Vernon had ever been able to harm him as much as the group of boys was able to, and Merlin knows the man has tried. Thus he had taken to hiding from the gang and his uncle, only appearing before the lard of a man when forced to do chores in their 'normal' home.

Though sadly his hiding didn't really help much when his Uncle was of the mind to cause him harm for any small fault, regardless of whether or not the punishment was earned.

Taking a deep breath he gritted his teeth as his ribs seemed to cry out in pain and agony, causing a soft whimper to escape from his lips. Between Vernon's violent actions whenever he was drunk and the pure aggressiveness from the gang at Private Drive, he was barely ever without bruises or broken bones now, in fact since he had started Hogwarts, this had been one of the worst summers he's had gone through so far.

Slowly, not wanting to jostle any bones and cause himself more undue pain, he made his way into a sitting position. He paused every now and then; straining his ears to make sure no one was around before he was finally able to sit up. Biting his bottom lip he slowly lifted up his tattered shirt and bit back a weak whimper as his tired muscles protested even that small movement. His stomach was almost completely black, and his ribs, when not feeling numb, seemed to radiate pure pain throughout his body. He had gotten this injury the first night back at his relative's house, for fighting with his Uncle over allowing Hedwig to fly around at night. He hadn't smelled the scent of scotch on his uncle until it had been too late, and by then his body was in so much pain that the mere thought of fighting back made him tremble in fear.

Normally he wouldn't bat an eyelash over this type of injury, thanks to his magic he was a fast healer, he doubted he would have survived at the Dursley's if it wasn't for his abilities. But he was starting to get worried, his ribs had yet to heal, in fact it seemed as if his injuries were getting worse. It was almost impossible to bend now and he could barely run, much less walk at times, the only reason his Uncle had yet to notice this new occurrence was thanks to the man's complete obliviousness when it came to his nephew. In all honesty, he wasn't sure how much longer he could survive this. He had tried to ask for help from his friends, and even Dumbledore, but they were all suspiciously silent, even when they did respond to his letters it was to either to talk about inane things or simply tell him he was safe where he was for now. And ever since the tournament, he had been unable to reach Sirius, he could only hope the older man was safe, wherever he may be.

In truth, the odd distance in which his friends had been speaking to him since the end of the school year hurt. He had never told them the full extent of the abuse he suffered through, as he felt they would find fault in him for allowing a muggle man to harm him, regardless of the fact that using magic outside of school was against the rules. But he hadn't thought they would instantly believe him to be completely fine at the Dursley's. Especially Ron, he had seen the bars on his windows after all, and Harry knew for a fact that his friend had seen a few of his bruises on occasion, though he thankfully never commented on them. Didn't he find it strange though, did he even care?

The pain he was suffering through from his injuries seemed to get worse by the day, to the point that he was even tempted to owl Snape and beg the surly man for help. He knew the Snape hated the very air he breathed, but if there was even the slightest chance that the dreadful man would be willing to give him a potion for his pain… then Harry would quite willingly clean all of the Potion Master's mucky cauldrons for a year, with not a lip of complaint.

Sighing wearily to himself he decided not to think to much on his friends odd actions for now. He had bigger problems to worry about. Voldemort had finally managed to obtain a body. He had been unconscious for most of the ritual, only coming to when the man began to curse him; frightening crimson orbs had stared at him throughout his torture. Those orbs had shown nothing but insanity, and Harry feared what would become of the wizarding world once the dark wizard regained control of his followers. It was only thanks to Wormtail's folly that he had managed to escape. The rat of a man had tripped over the goblet, making it move just in reach of Harry's outstretched hand; allowing the portkey to take him away from the graveyard and back to the safety of Hogwarts. The school had gone into a panic at his return, with Cedric at the forefront apologizing profusely for making Harry take the cup and go alone. Harry however, had been thankful that the hufflepuff had convinced him against having them both reach for it, who knows what Voldemort would have done had Cedric been there as well…

Harry frowned as he noticed the sun was almost completely gone now. It was time to go back to his 'loving' relative's house. Hopefully his uncle hadn't drunk too many spirits today and would be too busy watching the telly to bother punishing him for yet another fabricated incident. With any extra luck he might even be able to finish any extra chores his Aunt gave him quickly, leaving him with more than enough time to pen a letter to Professor Snape in the plea for health potions. With a tired sigh he wearily stood up, thankful that he only felt a slight twinge of pain at the movement. The sun was almost completely gone now and he needed to head home before the last light of day faded away even more. Ever since Dudley turned over a new leaf, his Aunt had been in a rather irate mood, undoubtedly upset that her precious son no longer found enjoyment in eating family dinners, and preferred working late shifts in the auto shop to staying home all summer long and stuffing his face with greasy food.

Walking out of the small park his thoughts went back to his cousin. Ever since his third year the older boy had… well changed for lack of a better word. He had lost a surprisingly large amount of weight and was now barely ever home, this year especially Dudley seemed more focused working then goofing around and bullying the younger children in Private Drive. He had even broken off ties to his gang, something which had surprised Harry to no end. But what was truly shocking, was his cousin's change of attitude towards him. If they ever were around each other Dudley would simply quietly acknowledge his presence and then go about his business, he wouldn't cause a fuss, and he never blamed anything on Harry anymore. Harry had been flummoxed by his cousin's change of character, to the point that he even tried to catch the older boy's eye every now and then, just to make sure he hadn't been imperioed. His cousin was changing, in what way Harry hadn't the faintest clue, but compared to the past where the older boy was once his main tormentor, he quite liked the new and improved Dudley.

A terrified scream quickly broke him out of his musings. Suddenly aware of his surroundings he looked around wildly, trying to pinpoint where the scream had originated from. The sun had suddenly disappeared and even though it was the middle of summer it was now eerily cold. His breath caused the air to fog around him, making it hard to see out of his glasses. His heart thudded loudly in his chest as a sense of foreboding tingled down his spine.

It was cold.

So very cold.

He felt as if he would never be happy again.

He paled and scrambled to reach for his wand, cursing to himself when he realized he had left the blasted thing under his floorboards this morning. Taking a deep breath he tried to hurry home, being careful to mind his injuries as he tried to power walk the last few blocks to the Dursley's residence. His eyes kept looking around, trying to figure out where the dark beings had even came from. How was this even possible?! How could there be dementors in Little Winging?!

'Well…' He thought spitefully to himself as his body protested against his fast pace. 'So much for being safe.'

Another scream caught his attention then. Throwing caution to the wind he ran in the general direction from where he had heard the shouts coming from. He was utterly defenseless, but he wasn't about to let some poor innocent lose their soul; he just hoped he would be able to reach them in time. Right now he was extremely thankful for his burst of adrenaline, as it kept him from feeling the pain his body was now no doubt in. A tunnel came up ahead and he could just barely make out a blurry figure lying on the ground.

Running into the darkened tunnel he looked around, feeling his heart thundering loudly in he strained his eyes to catch sight of the rouge beings. He could feel that they were close, but wasn't sure where they were coming from. A loud whimper caught his attention and he turned to see a tall figure kneeling on the ground, shaking.

Walking towards the shaking man his eyes widened in surprise as he realized it was his cousin. The taller boy's lips were ice blue; a thin layer of sweat covered his body and made his oil stained shirt cling to him. Dudley's brown eyes were filled with absolute terror, and suddenly Harry remembered how magical creatures could affect muggles more so than witches or wizards.

"Dudley?" He whispered, his voice echoing through the tunnel. He was unsure of what to do; he hadn't expected to find his cousin here. The boy had seemed to make it his mission in life to spend as much time away from Private Drive as possible. How ironic that he would suddenly appear at the worst possible moment.

Wide brown eyes looked up at him, his cousin's tan skin now a sickly pale colour as the chill seemed to reach into his very soul. "H-h-harry." He stuttered, his teeth clacking loudly from both the cold and fear. "P-please st-stop!"

Harry stepped closer to his cousin, shocked when the older boy flinched away from him. "I'm not doing this Dudley." He whispered urgently, wanting to get back to the safety of the wards even more now. They were lucky that the dementors had yet to find them, but he knew it was only a matter of time. Placing a comforting hand on his cousin's broad shoulder, he stared into the older boy's eyes, hoping desperately that his cousin would realize just how dire their situation really was. "Dudley… If we don't leave now, the ones who are doing this will find us." Hesitantly he offered his hand to his cousin. They have never been on the best of terms, but he knew his cousin was different now, Harry could only hope that the difference was enough to make the older boy believe him.

Harry watched as countless emotions flashed through the older boy's eyes, before determination settled in those brown orbs. He tried to hide his shock when the taller boy grabbed hold of his hand, but failed horribly if Dudley's weak smirk was anything to go by.

Blinking at the utter surrealness of the moment he shook his head and gestured forward. "Let's go home."

Dudley nodded shakily as he stood up. "Yeah." He forced a grin on his lips as he started to move forward, leaning slightly on his younger cousin for support. "Though once we get there you and me are going to have a long overdue talk."

Harry chuckled in surprise before nodding, forcefully ignoring the twinges of pain he felt from his lower ribs at helping support Dudley's body against his own. "Sure."

They walked unsteadily towards the exit of the tunnel, Harry doing his best to ignore his aching ribs while Dudley struggled to keep upright, his legs threatening to give out at any given moment.

They had almost made it to the tunnel's exit when the sharp coldness and despair in the air suddenly increased to an almost unbearable level.

Faintly, Harry could hear his mother's screams.

"They've found us." He whispered weakly, trying not to fall into the horrible memory from his past.

The dementors quickly swooped into the dark tunnel; Harry dimly noted there were at least ten of them before his legs gave out. His head cracked against the cold pavement roughly and he whimpered weakly as the dementors began to overwhelm him. They were utterly vicious in their frenzy, memory after memory they took from him, greedily devouring any remnants of joy and happiness they could find, leaving him to feel unbearably hollow as they tore through him. He could hear screams, but was unsure if they were his own or coming from Dudley.

One of the dementors swooped down towards him, covering his small form with its large billowing cloak. Slowly, no doubt taking enjoyment from his misery it pulled down its hood, revealing rotten flesh and empty sockets where its eyes should have been. The creature's gaping mouth came closer to his own and he trembled in fear, realizing that this was it.

He was going to die.

He closed his eyes, not wanting to see his final moments. He wondered if he would be able to see his parents when he died, or would his soul be permanently stuck inside this dementor, doomed to never see his loved ones. The overwhelming sorrow he felt seemed to fill his very essence, a few tears leaked out of his closed lids as he smelled the scent of death and despair that clung to these dark creatures.

He was going to die.

He would be alone.

He would always be alone.

No one could ever want a frea-

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

A bright light flashed from behind his closed lids, illuminating the once dark tunnel. Suddenly the cold left him, and all he could feel was a sense of warmth and love. Opening his eyes he blearily saw a glowing baby deer standing before him, tilting its head in curiosity as it pranced closer. The last sound he heard before darkness claimed him was a soft voice whispering loving words to him.

A/N:Yay for part one! I hope you will all enjoy this tale, though it may seem a bit strange at times. Please do leave a review if you've enjoyed this tale, as they always bring me joy and give me motivation. Thank you.

Till next time.