Azure

All the Same

Disclaimer: Not mine. The characters belong to J.K. Rowling. The story idea stem,ed from Harry Potter and the Spiritual Heirs by PhoenixBurst on ff.n. (It's also on wattpad)

All The Same

"It was small solace from the guilt, in truth it felt wrong to have someone comfort him after what he had done, but for now, for now, it would do."

The walls were chipping.

That's what he noticed after hours of staring at them. They were a faded shade of white, but age wore them down to some lackluster hue. It wasn't a color you would notice, nor was it something you would grimace at. It was just...there.

Harry sighed. It was the beginning of summer, and the sun's temperament was only just making itself vocal. Perhaps in another world, he would enjoy the warmth. Even the plain grass of the lawn looked ethereal under the light. But here, holed up in the smallest room of Number 4, Privet Drive, Harry could scarcely do more than look out the window in longing.

It wasn't as if he was forbidden from the outside world, per say. It was more of unsightly grimaces and carefully placed death threats from his "family" that made him stay in his room. The Dursleys wouldn't outright say that Harry was not welcome on the lawn, but the barred teeth from Uncle Vernon and the look on Aunt Petunia's face were reason enough to stay away.

He rolled in his bed, which was strewn with baggy clothes and textbooks. Some of the books wriggled, and Harry saw his copy of The Monster Book of Monsters snap its fangs.

For any normal teenager, this itself would cause a multitude of reasons to worry, but for Harry Potter, the books were perhaps the most normal things in his life. No matter how you would frame it, the end of conclusion would always be the same. Harry Potter was far from normal.

For one, Harry hated the summer holidays more than anything. He also wanted to go outside, but was frightened in doing so. And of course, Harry Potter was a wizard.

Nearly five years ago, Hagrid, a kind giant whom he considered his first friend had come to rescue Harry and introduce him to a hidden world he was to be part of. Harry had been ecstatic to get away from the Dursleys. Hagrid could have come from the slums and offered to take him away, and Harry would have readily agreed. But Hagrid had given him a letter in fanciful script that he was a wizard. A wizard.

The next day, Hagrid had taken him to Diagon Alley, his first magical visit, and from that moment onwards, Harry had never looked back. For the first time in his life, whatever hidden hope he still had emerged from the dusty misery of his existence. The wizarding world was a haven to Harry. It was a chance at a life with some form of happiness. He had friends there, and maybe even a family. And then there was the magic.

Almost five years later, he was still in awe of magic. Whispered words and strong intent, and it was magic. For years, magic was nothing but a fantasy, something to play around with in a children's book. Now, it was all very real, and all very possible.

And yet, the magic which Harry sung praises of also condemned him to an existence of misery. Nearly sixteen years ago, a wizard called Lord Voldemort had come to his house in Godric's Hollow, and killed his parents. When Voldemort raised  his wand to kill him, somehow it failed, and rebounded off of Harry, killing Voldemort, or so it seemed.

In Harry's fourth year, he had been falsely entered into the deadly triwizard tournament.  He had to face dragons, merpeople, and a plethora of dangers only to meet Voldemort resurrected. It was found that Barty Crouch Junior had been  impersonating Mad Eye Moody, and he, under the orders of Voldemort had entered Harry under a false school.