A/N: After some deliberation, I'm releasing this chapter. It's setting me back, but I'd like to express a few more depravities of the Dursleys. I'd have made this longer, but I had a brief argument with my mind after it refused to cooperate. Hopefully, my next few chapters will be a bit more...substantial than this one. Sorry for the filler.

He was cold, hunger gnawing at his stomach. He had tears running down his face. The room was dark, their voices muffled by the walls. He knew what they were talking about. They were talking about the things that they'd buy for the Christmas party. It was nearly midnight, something within him telling him the time. It was the source of his eternal misery, but it was something that he couldn't get himself to suppress out of the pain that suddenly sparked because of said suppression.

The stench of shit and vomit reached his nose, but he didn't care. He had been desensitized to his disgust when he felt a lump of shit, to the sticky clothes, to the salty crust on his skin. He'd have to clean them when he finally got out from this fucking room, throw his waste in the forest discreetly, and clean his room with bleach until the next time he'd be locked in here. His muscles were atrophying and body turning into a pile of bones. But he couldn't get himself to care anymore about his body, about his current state of mind. He didn't want to do anything in this world, he just wanted to get out of here. He wanted freedom from this infernal prison, from the people that were holding him hostage. Or perhaps, he'd just succumb to his internal desires.

He felt the thing inside him bubble, banging against the cage that he had put it in. It was what they had called his 'freakishness,' the accursed thing that had made his body sting from the belt, burn from the stove, bruise from the fists. He just managed to stifle it, feeling it burn within his body. He felt his eyes sting, trying to refrain from squeezing those diamonds out, ones that the Dursleys thought were so valuable.

His teachers thought that he was simply and completely dumb, stupid as a nail in his foot. Thank God for his fast healing. He wouldn't know what he'd do. He heard their muffled discussion, talking about how many guests would come, how much money it'd take to buy all the decorations and the cake. He heard them talking about things like how great Dudley was, the progress the little pig was making with his addition and subtraction. They talked about things like finances and work, about how so and so did this and that. Didn't they care? Did anyone in this accursed world care?

Harry sobbed. No one noticed him, the teachers for some magical reason, the students only when they needed their homework done. He'd made himself a small fortune, but he still felt hollow inside, something missing.

The voices stopped, fear gripping Harry by the heart. He knew how to keep his calm, subdue his remarks, how to keep his composure. It had been drilled into him each time they'd brought the paddle against his backside, the sessions managing to take as long as several hours with different punishments.

The door to his accursed room opened, the sudden light blinding him. It was Vernon, his 'Uncle.'

"Get on out here, boy, before your stench makes me give you something rather special." It was said without pity, an expecting tone attached to it. It was the voice of a teacher demanding a student for something that they'd stolen, a voice with a murderous tone to it. Soft, gritty, and harsh.

Show no fear, Harry mentally told himself. The statement echoed throughout his mind.

"Yes, sir." Harry said, has voice shaking only slightly.

"Clean your fucking room out," the Bull bellowed, steam coming from his nostrils. "And clean this house up as well. Finish before dinner and if not, we're going to have some fun tonight."

Harry felt a stone of dread being shoved down his throat and chills come down his sides. He didn't plead, whine, nor did he protest.

His surroundings shifted fluidly into a harshly lit bathroom. He hadn't been able to clean the entirety of the home, just a speck of dirt in the bathroom from his accursed Cousin. The Pig had purposefully grabbed a ball of dirt and just threw it against the bathroom floor, running off into his large bedroom. Just then, as he was cleaning, the food ready on the table, his Uncle had called for dinner. Of course, his Uncle had thrown him forcibly against the wall, causing him to softly groan. In turn, the largest Dursley emitted a soft laugh, speaking of the horrors that lay for Harry.

The scene shifted again, glimpses of what his Uncle did flitting by.

Harry was hyperventilating, pain searing his flesh. It was one of the worst beatings he'd had, and he'd certainly had plenty of them. His body hurt all over, seeming to throb with one pulse. His head ached, splitting under the duress placed upon it by his loving Uncle. His muscles were painfully seizing up in this nightly ritual. In the morning, his freakishness would have healed himself of the bruises, split skin, and minor scratches, but the scars, both internal and external, would remain.

He heard the redheaded woman scream, the ghastly man laugh, the skeletal man weep. He remembered their laughter, resonating deep inside his nine-year-old self. He remembered his legs buckling underneath his Uncles weight, his body burn as he was harshly punished. He felt disgusting, the sweat and oil sticking to his body. Spit, tears, and blood gushed down his body, making a revolting mixture of fluid that pooled around him. Harry lived with Pain, after all, why shouldn't he? He didn't attempt to restrict Him. Why cancel the inevitable anyways?

Pleasant Memories in Dreams

Harry, the Merlin of Britain, screamed. He curled up into a fetal position in his bed, tears starting to form. He let himself go, emitting piercing screams. He felt a someone sit on his bed, causing him to immediately snap up. He forced his mind into an intangible container that could barely hold it. He shuddered as he remembered first shoving his emotion down.

He could barely remember those moments. The times when his Uncle had beaten him without remorse, his laughs echoing in that dark, horrid basement that smelled of his sweat and blood. He whimpered each time he thought about the unspeakable things his Uncle had done to him. It was one of the worst punishments he had experienced. Pain had been his worst Enemy during those days, but now, now…Harry mentally cackled, a smile spreading on his face. The sudden change in attitude would spook grown Wizards.

He unconsciously pushed his disgust down. That was something that had been able to become far more bearable with Daphne. It'd been a week since she'd brought him into the room and just a few days ago, she'd learned of the things that he knew, immediately asking him to teach her several things. He agreed, seeing that he owed her.

Suddenly, Harry's thoughts returned to the present, causing him to then ask, "What d'you want?"

She hushed him, "I'm so sorry for doing this, Harry. Sleep." Her voice was soft and melodic. Harry struggled against it, feeling his mind quickly become heavy. He felt his thoughts become sluggish, his mind slowly shutting down.

He only managed to ask one question. It wasn't with hatred, anger, nor any other negative emotion.

"Why?"

He fell into a magic induced coma, one that Morgaine knew would last a good eight hours, doing him all sorts of wonders. She hadn't wanted to do it, this was one those things that she believed was necessary for a parent to do. Take away the pain, yet still let them grow, right?

Gods, Morgaine thought. Am I making the right call? If she could only give me a damned glimpse into the future!

Her heart pounded in her chest as she felt him go to sleep. All-Powerful, she mentally scoffed. If only he knew. She could do many things, but not directly control his future. She knew some things but could only prepare him for them. Those were the rules she felt, instinctively knew, instead of being outright told them. Much like an Unbreakable Vow.

The coma would slightly and positively boost his mood for a bit of time, allowing him to heal faster what with his contact with Daphne. It wasn't enough to permanently change him, but instead it was like medication that Humans were using for their mentally ill. But there, it was for the underlying reason of happiness. That was wrong. Morgaine just wanted to get him to heal, for his mind to get better. She wouldn't take away his depression, his sadness, and not even his pain. She wasn't obsessed with happiness, not like the Humans. What she was doing was like administering medicine to the sick, giving them antibodies to help them get better.

She was worried that she'd be interfering too much by giving him an object, something that they both fondly remembered. It was a band of snakes, one that their mother, Igraine, had worn and given her.

It was a family heirloom. Just that. It wasn't some special trinket, something that would allow Harry to do things like rip cities out of the ground, turn him into a ludicrous animal. No, it was a bauble, nothing magical about other than the fact that this object could be enchanted. It was pure gold after all, the only difference from other ordinary gold trinkets would be that magic strengthened it.

The only thing that the bracelet would do for him would give him several good memories, and these were good ones. These would be able to distract him for a good bit of time, remind him that there's more to life.

Mentally sighing, Morgaine gently placed it on Harry's bed, knowing that he'd wake in several hours, school effectively over. All she needed to do was go to Daphne. Hopefully, Harry would heal. Hopefully. She sighed and snapped her fingers, vanishing in a swirl of wind.

Hours Later

Harry woke up groggily. He felt better and he knew why. He was slightly annoyed by the fact that Morgaine had managed cause him to sleep. Not at her, though, but at himself. He should've seen it a mile away. Fucking hell.

But he couldn't bring himself to become far too mad at her, knowing that she cared for him and as odd as he thought it was, something bubbled within him. The first time that someone actually did something personal to take care of him. His abduction didn't count. He felt his breath shudder as he closed his eyes momentarily, taking a deep breath in.

He grabbed his wand, loving the way that it hummed to life. He cast a Tempus, promptly swearing. Every class was over, the last period ending at around 4:00 pm which was 30 minutes ago. He hurriedly got up and was about to leave his bed when he a glint of gold caught his eye. It was a bracelet. He let out an incredulous laugh. He couldn't imagine the things that Morgaine had gone through to get him this. It felt the same, physically, and magically. It was a complex piece of craftsmanship, something that likely either cost a shit ton of money or she was giving him the actual heirloom. Damn. He felt a smile on his face, casting several charms on it. He could remember the anticipation, the joy at receiving this from a distant mother, Igraine. He slipped it onto his arm, relishing the way that it seemed to sing at the touch of his magic. A family heirloom, one that was solely connected from Morgaine's grandfather all the way down to him.

His smiled became even wider as the memories started to flood his mind. These were ones that were buried under centuries of pain and suffering. He could remember the midnight romps, the children smiling, and, most importantly, Morgaine's parents.

He pulled his robe over it when the door to his dorms suddenly burst open. He immediately wiped the smile off his face. It was Professor Snape.

"Potter! What happened today?" Professor Snape asked, a look of concern instead of anger on his face.

Harry said, shakily, "I went to sleep, the best way for me to deal with what happened."

Professor Snape looked at him sharply. "Potter, if you're lying to me…"

"No, Professor. I'm not," Harry quickly affirmed his statement.

"Well then, I expect that you come to class on Monday, else you will certainly have detention with me, and I can say with the utmost certainty that it will not be pleasant for either of us." The Professor was sentimental? Huh. Harry was confused. Normally, he wouldn't get a break like that, and he certainly didn't believe that the Professor believed him. He sent a small thanks to whatever supernatural being had given him grace.

Harry grabbed his bag and headed towards Charms. He had to get his work, the only thing that'd keep him alive.

Some Time Later

Harry was walking through the halls, today's homework, and notes in his bag ready for Monday, when he was pulled into an empty classroom. This has been happening far too recently.

He looked at his captor, his wand already out. It was Black. Harry relaxed and moved about a foot or two away from her.

"The bloody hell, Black! What d'you want?" Harry asked.

Black replied with a question, asking, "Where were you today? We had several bloody tests tod-"

"Yeah, I know," Harry cut her off. "Dumb to the things happening around me."

"Good then, cause I managed to get Dumbledore to bring me to Grimmauld Place." Black said, getting to the point, caring about the fact that Harry still had to .

Grimmauld Place. Those were two words he hadn't heard in a while. Perhaps it was a hazy memory from when he was a child, from when his parents were still alive. Harry suppressed that emotion, thinking rationally. "Is that a Manor, park, school…" Harry let the question hang in the air, his voice trailing off.

"It was my home, and because you saved my bloody life coupled with the Vow, I'm letting you come along." She had this tone in her voice, reminding Harry much of the way that McGonagall looked at him Susan. He could detect a faint hint of nostalgia and longing.

"Ooh, such a big deal, Black. What do I get out of it?" Harry asked, taking a familiar route.

"What do you get out of this?" Black asked incredulously, a glint in her eyes telling him that he would like what she was going to say. "My family is hundreds if not thousands of years old. Don't you think that there'd be an artifact in our Library that you'd find interesting?"

Harry smiled internally, keeping it from showing. Visually, he nodded, saying, "Ok, when're we leaving?"

"We can go whenever we want, just as long as we manage to leave today. As far as I know, all we need is to tell Dumbledore and we'll just go to home."

A strange way that she said it, speaking as if it were both their homes. Harry imperceptibly shuddered as the implications and the emotions settled in. He was still fragile from earlier. Nothing too much.

Harry nodded in response to her. "Okay. When do you want to leave?"

Black bit her lip, making her seem extremely attractive. "Right now."

"So, let's get this straight," Harry started, "you just told me that we're going God knows where, to a place that's probably been abandoned cause you have no living relatives and no other family can take it. And we're leaving right now? Why'd you tell me right now?"

"Because of whatever's been going on with you, no offense." Black immediately answered.

"None taken."

"I didn't want to bother you and anyways, I just learned about this yesterday."

Harry nodded. Logical. Anyways, he hadn't been available for the past day. "So, are we going to Dumbledore?"

Black nodded. She then said, "Let's go."

Mentally, Harry shrugged. He wanted to go to Sicarius, but he could always push that aside for another day or two.

He followed Black down the halls and to Dumbledore, this odd buoyancy about him. He felt lighter, slightly more carefree. What exactly had Morgaine done? She hadn't taken the pain away, he was sure of it, but instead his nap seemed to have done something to his mind. It was as if there had been someone had reinforced his mind, adding extra beam to his mental room to prevent the ceiling from collapsing. What kind of magic was this? Was it something that Morgaine had taken out of his memories or was it something that one of her friends had given her?

Harry's thoughts were broken as they turned the corner and the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office seemed to growl at him, as if Harry were dangerous. He blinked his eyes in surprise and it was back to normal. Perplexed, he moved closer and started to place his hands on its head.

"Potter," Blacks voice cut through the silence of the castle, "what in Merlin's name are you doing?"

Harry let his magic pool into his hands and expelled it into the gargoyle. Nothing was wrong, just the standard charms for a basic guardian of an area. It was imbued with Hogwarts' magic, but nothing else. Odd. "Hmm?" Harry said, pulling his hands away and turned towards her. "Oh, just checking something out. And you don't need to use the password."

He placed his hands back on the gargoyle and closed his eyes, feeling for the mechanism, the magical switch. When he felt it, he 'flicked' it, much like a light switch, causing the gargoyle to suddenly rumble and move. Harry stepped back as the gargoyle moved to the side and looked at Black.

"How'd you do that?" she asked incredulously, trying to determine exactly what he did.

Harry smiled. It was the best answer to anything. "Magic, Black. It's called magic."

She rolled her eyes and headed up the stairs. "Just shut up and come on."

Harry laughed a true, genuine laugh. They walked up the stairs and Harry could feel the walls closing on in him again, as if it were trying to squeeze the air out of him. What was happening? They reached the stairs after an eternity of climbing. Harry breathed a sigh of relief causing Black to look oddly at him. Thankfully, she said nothing.

She rapped her knuckles sharply on the door, Dumbledore calling her in. Harry followed her. The office was clean, though now, there were massive stacks of books around Dumbledore's desk. Harry didn't manage to get a close look now, but they were likely related to Black.

"Oh, Harry! What a pleasant surprise," Dumbledore then said, causing Harry to look at him incredulously. "What? You don't show up on my wards anymore, you can have a check if you'd like…"

"What?" Harry asked, surprised. Did Morgaine have something to do with this, or was it the bracelet? He didn't remember any Concealing Charms being placed on it.

Dumbledore nodded, waving his rather odd wand this way and that, creating a complex maze of magical lines. "Yes, see?"

Harry could see the way that the ward was layered, the number enchantments and the incantations involved, something a Wizard could tell from the number of intricacies involved in the way the lines were weaved together. It was using a massive amount of magic, Hogwarts' probably. You could tell that by the number of lines that were used as well as the height of the structure. He tried to find the individual threads of each student, knowing that it was standard practice in detection wards, managing to see ones connected to Daphne and Blaise, but he couldn't find his. It didn't detect his magic because it had change dramatically.

"Huh," was all that Harry decided to say, knowing full well that it wouldn't do any harm to him if Dumbledore knew that he was versed in the art of wards.

"Any ideas why?" Dumbledore then said, a glint in his eye.

Harry thought for a moment, Black oddly remaining silent. "Perhaps it could be because of a slight change in my magic, perhaps caused by the way that I age and stuff…"

"Interesting," was all that Dumbledore said in response. The Headmaster then said with a smile, "It's nice to see you up and about, Harry."

Harry awkwardly nodded as Dumbledore then said, "Well, I presume that you, Miss Black, would like to bring Harry to Grimmauld Place, correct?"

"Yes," Black said curtly.

"Well then," the Wizened Wizard said, "would you like me to accompany you or someone else?"

"Someone else Headmaster, no offense," Black answered.

Dumbledore nodded. "Then who would you like to bring?"

"Nymphadora Tonks." Black immediately said.

Dumbledore seemed to be shocked, blinking twice in rapid succession. "Miss Tonks, you say…I believe that she is your sister's daughter?"

"Yeah."

He nodded slowly, "I'll see if her mentor, Auror Moody will allow her to accompany you. I believe that you should leave and come back in perhaps, 30 minutes. Accio!"

He summoned the Floo Powder into his hand and stood up.

Black then said, "Let's go."

Harry let her bring him down the stairs. At the bottom she then said, "Could I see the Library?"

"You don't know where it is, Black? I thought in your two years of being here that you'd know where a place like the Library would be," Harry said with a straight face.

"Oh, fuck off, Potter," Black said, punching his arm with a small flash of something in her eyes. "You know what I meant."

"You think you can run down the length of the school in just ten minutes?" Harry asked, eyebrow raised.

Bellatrix sighed. "I'm not a bloody idiot. We went from the Slytherin Dungeons to the second floor in the span of just five minutes. Using the pipes. Can't we just use the pipes?"

"Dammit," Harry muttered and sighed loudly. "Yeah, give me a sec."

He muttered a Revealing Spell in Parseltongue. There was an entrance just a few meters away. He walked over, knowing that Black was following. He muttered, 'Open' using Parseltongue.

"Ladies first," Harry said, gesturing.

Black looked at him. "I don't trust you."

"Why? I've done nothing other than open it." Harry asked innocently, knowing full well that this was a short chute. The Revealing spell had told him so.

Black looked at him, holding his eyes and trying to determine whether or not he was trustworthy. She nodded. She put on foot in the chute and sat down. "How long is this?"

"Not far too long," Harry answered honestly. After all, long was subjective term. "Ready?"

"Yeah."

"Count of three or are you just going to go?" Harry asked, desperately hoping that she would choose the former option. Things were returning to normal, the first visible change being that he was more humorous. Was he like this ever since his abduction or was this a result of earlier? He didn't know.

"See ya," Black said, pushing off and not bothering to answer his question. She'd known what he was going to do, probably from Daphne.

A/N: Black is bringing Potter to Grimmauld Place. What'll happen there? I have several ideas. Oh, and Tonks is coming along. Why? It involves time travel. I've already told you the reason, haven't I?

The memories associated with the bracelet may or may not be disclosed.

Some might say that the dream at the beginning is a bit unnecessary, but I'm keeping it in there for two particular reasons. To further show how depraved the Dursleys are is the first. The second is to give Harry a reason for the breakdown. I may be slightly over doing these breakdowns but at least they're not all over the place. Fun. I'd say that in the future I'll refrain from making him do this again. It's starting to become this boring routine and...that's not good when you're writing, now is it?

Sorry for the lack of content in this chapter. I've been...busy. The next chapter will be up in the next two weeks, hopefully, and it'll hopefully be longer.

Vi38: Thanks.

setokayba2n: Well, I have some things prepared. I've been browsing r/nosleep for some inspiration. Maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to make it satisfying for you.

NoOneInParticular17: Cheers and have fun reading other fanfics.

Ha: Ooh. I'd like to say that if you're reading this, I am immature and childish, just fitting into the skin of a nearly 14 year old.

The good and bad doubtlessly exist, but what I'm trying to say here is that there is no proper definition of those two terms. In the Witcher, there are morally ambiguous choices that you make (the bloody brilliant video games, not the books if you need clarification). One of the earlier choices (Spoilers, I guess) is saving the orphans that the local 'gods' or crones are holding by releasing their enemy or killing said enemy. If you kill it, then the 'gods' (crones) kill the group of orphans, but the village still stays in peace, no one else is greatly impacted. If you spare the enemy and release it, then it goes and takes the orphans as well as causing a series of events that leads to a village's leader's suicide as well as the deformation and eventual death of said leader's wife. Is there a good and bad choice in this situation?

The words good and bad can be thrown around carelessly. It was bad the America decided to nuke Japan. But it was also good as it ultimately helped end the W.W. which saved many lives. It's also bad as it showed the world the effects of nuclear weapons, creating a fear in America as the Soviets then developed their own nuclear warheads. The final one caused many to live in terror for a significant number of years. Was the nuking good and bad? Similarly, was the destruction of the Death Star good or bad? Good as it allowed the Empire to fall, releasing the people from a tyrannical rule. Bad because it, in real life, would've led to the collapse of an economy as the central government would be thrown into anarchy, the economy following suit. The descriptions of whether something is good or bad is affected by a person's perspective. That's also why 'the end justifies a means,' is still debated. Technically.

Similarly, it seemed like a good decision for the Mayans to sacrifice and consume humans. Wrong (bad) in our day, right (good) in their day.

As for the last two reviews from you (meant to be said in a friendly tone), the Jedi didn't really delve into the more violent force things that they grouped under the "Dark Side." From my memory, no one (other than Anakin, but we all know how that turned out-botched his loyalties and died) used Force Lightning, Choke, and things like that.

And yes, there are inherently bad spells on paper, but the use of some of them, I think, can be justified in certain situations. The Killing Curse for swift and painful execution, the painless execution part being why the guillotine was used for such a long time. But then, I'm not a history buff, so I'm likely wrong. Crucio, I have to admit, really doesn't have an ethically good intent. My two cents.

Oh and if it brings you any comfort, I'll be slightly changing Harry's argument and give a heads up to future readers. There are flaws in his argument when you put it that way. He, and I, are...young.

-Argument Over-

Happy reading, have a bloody good day, and that's all I have to say...in terms of saying goodbye.

Cheers

HHS