Hey everybody, thanks for reading. I hope you are enjoying my story so far, and I'd like to say once again that JK Rowling is the founder of Harry Potter and the one making it possible for all these wonderful ff's here on SS to be written. This chapter is pretty long, but there are a lot of explanations revealed. I hope you enjoy reading it. If ever anyone has questions you can leave me a user note or PM me, and I will be more than happy to answer. Comments are welcome. Next week will be Chapter 7, "Nearly Killed By His Mentor"

ashfig: Hey Ashley, thanks for commenting. Yes, up until now was for setting up the story and the story after this one. I'm so glad you like my ff, and keep reading.

crookshanks_kitty: Hey Ava, thanks for reading and commenting. I'm glad things are clear now about how I wanted Harry's concept of love to be. The only thing is, I've been soooooooo hungry for ice-cream ever since then. (I've been a good girl and not gotten any, but it's been hard.) Well, the thing is, in her defense, Harry was eleven years old when he got his want. He was brand new to the magic world. If he had explained all this to him then, I expect it would have went over Harry's head. Also, I wonder if he (Ollivander) even knew the extent of a wands capabilities. When Harry asked about his wand being repaired, he said he hadn't heard of a wand in this bad condition being able to be fixed. And also when Voldemort had him captive, he couldn't give the information Voldemort needed. He said he didn't understand why the wand was acting the way it was. It's like Scientists and Doctors can tell us all day long how we are made and what our functions are, but they can't begin to tell who we are inside, and what causes us to smile, cry, blush... Nobody but an individual has the answers to that. And sometimes it takes us a very long time to find out who we are ourselves, because we are so complex. So, I think the wand is only understood by the owner after they are acclimated to each other. Bottom line, I don't think Ollivander knew and wouldn't have been able to tell Harry. Just my opinion.

Thanks for commenting Ava, and I do hope you enjoy these coming up chapters because they do involve more characters.



Chapter 6

Unloved and Unwanted

Harry stirred from his memories suddenly due to a rather loud clap of thunder. The storm was upon him. Brilliant lightening illuminated the surroundings. The wind started howling as it rushed across the rain-starved meadows and started picking up dust devils here and there, where patches of grass had died off from the heat and drought. Harry was about to set up a tent when another loud clap of thunder sounded and a large bolt of lightening streaked across the sky, searching for something to unleash it’s fury on. Harry new from the looks of things the Burrow would likely be a target as it was the tallest object around. Instantly Harry shot a protection charm at the house whose occupants were the people he dearly loved.

Just at that moment, someone charged and knocked Harry off his feet and there was a hand around his throat choking him. When he landed the man that attacked him fell heavily over top of him knocking the wind out of him. The man moved swiftly and got up on one knee, which he buried in Harry’s upper groin area. Then there was an explosion causing tremendous pain on the left side of his head, and he lost consciousness.

Harry came around to find he was lying on a kitchen table with many hands holding him down clear around him. Someone had a handful of his hair pinning his head tightly to the table. Anger rose quickly but silently at his treatment. He kept still with his eyes closed trying to think. He was in a desperate state he knew. His head was throbbing and he could feel the side of his head was wet with blood. There was also a horrible sickening pain below his abdomen, and whoever was holding his left leg was causing a pain like fire to shoot up his leg. He didn’t know how long he had been unconscious so he couldn’t tell how much blood he lost. However, judging from how woozy he was feeling it must be a considerable amount. His situation grew dire, and he was about to do something he didn’t want to do when a voice he recognized burst through the door shouting he had found “the bloody git’s wand.”

“Accio wand!” he thought quickly, and the wand left Ron’s hand. Ron looked shocked at his hand. He pointed suddenly at a wand suspended in air at the table.

“Stand back everyone.” Harry said with a very scratchy throat. Everybody moved away except the one holding his head to the table with his hair. He reached up and gripped the wrist, squeezed it tight then realized it was the wrist of a female. He felt her bone start to give, and he let loose quickly. Hermione cried out and stepped back holding her wrist.

“Why you bloody” as Ron charged the table, Harry put a freezing charm on him.

“Easy there Ron.” The pain in his head, upper groin area, and leg was causing tremendous pain, and a growing urge to vomit. Harry got off the table and stumbled between Molly and Ginny, then fell against the counter top. He rested against it until he felt sure he wouldn’t pass out or be sick.

“Everybody get over there. Go ahead and sit down. They just stood looking confused and scared. “Go sit on the couch, where ever you want as long as it’s over there. Everyone moved over to the couch and chairs where he indicated. Then Harry unfroze Ron so he could follow the others.

“Look, I’m sorry I hurt you Hermione.” A bag of crushed ice appeared on her wrist. “Hold that on there for fifteen minutes at a time. It’ll be ok. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Now, everybody just sit down and let me say something. Somebody attacked me outside and tried to kill me. I can’t think straight, but something doesn’t make sense. Somebody has been watching your place. I had to kill him. He’s out there under a round rock that I used to mark the spot where I buried him. Mr. Weasley? Did you see anyone when you got home?”

I didn’t see anyone, but I found you and brought you in here.” Mr. Weasley purposefully neglected to tell him he was the one who nearly killed him, and that rock was no longer marking the spot of a grave either.

“Well, thanks for coming home when you did. You must have scared off whoever else was out there. Thanks for bringing me in, but what is with treating me as if I’m a common criminal? Holding me down … Hermione trying to detach my scalp from my head … nobody talking to me.” He looked around and still nobody said anything until finally Arthur spoke.

“Why should we help you? You don’t belong here.”

These words cut into Harry deeply and he didn’t know what to do at first. Then he quietly spoke. “I see. Ok then … I’ll leave and never bother you again; if that’s the way you want it. Is that the way everyone feels?” He looked around at them all. They all nodded their heads in a confused way. He looked at Ginny.

“Ginny? Is that what you want?” he asked her dreading the response he was afraid he’d hear.

“Of course that’s what she wants! She isn’t going to marry you, and you’re crazy for thinking you could just come in here and make demands of us.” Ron was hot and bothered about this whole thing, and a little bit upset that he let the wand get away from him.

Harry was devastated. He thought back to when he wanted to make Ginny his girlfriend. He had been afraid it would become between his and Ron’s friendship. He was still looking at Ginny wanting her to speak and tell Ron to shut up, that she could speak for herself. However, she didn’t speak at all. She just looked in his direction in fear of something. “Was she afraid of him? How could she be?” Harry thought and then said,

“I guess the saying is true. One can never go home.” Harry was feeling sick, and his head was throbbing, making it difficult for him to think clearly. He was feeling like he was going to pass out. Maybe he could just die and get over with the pain of everything. The pain of loosing Ginny was overwhelming.

“Bill, I’ll come by Shell Cottage in the morning to conduct my business with you, if that’s agreeable. Professor, I’ll go up to Hogwarts right after that if it’s ok, and get squared away with you. Kingsley, I’ll go to the Ministry after that, and make an appointment with you. If that’s ok with you all then I’ll go ahead and leave now, and you can all get on with your merry lives.”

Still they just sat there. Then Mr. Weasley spoke. “Why won’t you show yourself so we know who we are supposed to be making plans with?”

“What?” This time Harry was confused. “Oh! I’m so sorry! I forgot I was invisible to you. I’m not thinking clearly.” He was excited understanding why they were confused and not welcoming him back. He waved his wand over himself and stood before them with a silly smile on his face. Still they didn’t say anything, and they still looked confused.

“Are we supposed to know you?” Bill asked, looking hard at the young man.
Harry stood in astonishment and answered weakly. “But you do know me. Yes! I’m Harry! Harry Potter? He added as it seemed just Harry was not good enough. He then lifted the hair off his forehead revealing the lightening bolt scar.

“That doesn’t prove anything, and you better remove it before you leave here. If you don’t then you’ll be arrested for impersonating Harry Potter. These past four years there have been many young men trying to prove they are Harry. In fact, Ginny has lost count of how many times Harry Potter proposed to her. The Goblins had to set up a special security force field around his vault to protect his wealth. It is now against the law for anyone to impersonate Harry Potter, punishable by imprisonment in Azkaban.”

Bill was now pacing the floor scrutinizing the young man. He was watching his expressions while Kingsley informed the stranger of these things.

“You’ll have to prove your claims, and you better have something good because we’ve seen plenty of really good ones and I doubt this time will be any different. You’ll soon be sitting in Azkaban with all the other imposters.”

Ron jumped up and came at Harry. He grabbed the front of his T-shirt, shook him, and jerked him towards him harshly. Harry’s legs buckled and he would have gone to the floor had it not been for Ron holding him up by his shirt.

“Stop!” The women all cried. “He’s hurt.” Ron held him for a moment longer then shoved him roughly backward. Harry fell back to the back of a chair that he was thankful was there. He leaned back against it to steady himself, getting that desperate feeling again. He was trying to think which was becoming more and more difficult. His injuries were starting to take their tolls on him.

“Take off your shirt, and let’s see how much you know about Harry. He’s got scars that only we know about.”

“Why can’t I just tell…?” Harry started but Ron rudely interrupted again.

“We won’t believe your lies. We can look at your scar work, and see how fake they are just for proof before we kick your sorry self in Azkaban. TAKE … OFF … YOUR … SHIRT!” He yelled at Harry.

Harry looked at Ron and then softly said, “Fine Ron. I’ll do you one better.” He swiftly flicked his wand over himself, and changed from his blue jeans, T-shirt, and trail boots, to nothing but a loincloth and his Moke-skinned pouch hanging on his hips. Better?” He asked with a definite edge to his voice. “This is what I wore while I lived in various jungles around the world for two and a half years. Can you see well enough, or shall I stand in a spot light?” He didn’t take his eyes off Ron, because for one reason he was furious that he needed to prove himself to his best mate and the other because his best mate was looking somewhat dangerous at the moment.

“These little ones on my hand are from flying keys from my first year at Hogwarts. This one is from the fang of a basilisk my second year. This one on my shoulder is from” But Ginny asked could he step forward so they could see better.

“Oh, er… ok.” he answered reluctantly. He limped forward not wanting to leave the chair he had been using to support himself. Ron looked over at Ginny and Hermione sitting on the edge of the couch looking at the scars all over him. They were about to ask why his left leg was wrapped from his knee to above his ankle, but Ron grabbed him before they could. “He’s fine where he’s at,” he said, jerking him back to the chair. Harry put his hand protectively just under his belly button, and his head swayed downward. It was taking all he had in him to keep from passing out.

“Ron, so help me, if you man-handle me again, I’m going to have to jinx you.” Although he said it quietly, Ron received the message loud and clear.

He took a shaky deep breath and continued with the scar tour. “This one on my shoulder is from the tail of a Hungarian Hornback Dragon when I was in the Tri Wizard Tournament in my fourth year. This one on my thigh is from pincers of a giant spider also from that year. This one, again from the same time period is where Wormtail sliced my arm open to take my blood to bring Voldemort back. Fifth year Umbridge had me torture myself leaving this scar that says, “I must not tell lies”. Sixth year Fenrir Greyback,” he gently moved the hair off of the left side of his shoulder showing a scar between his neck and shoulder, “attacked me from behind right after Po er I mean Professor Snape killed Professor Dumbledore. Er well, these ones are kind of hard to see because I have chest hair now, but this long diagonal one here is some sort of welt scar from the same night where Professor Snape magically lashed me for calling him a coward when I was chasing him trying to kill him for killing Professor Dumbledore. The year after that Ron, Hermione, and I went looking for Horcruxes. This one on my arm is from where Nagini bit me at Godric’s Hollow, and this scar is where Hermione had to burn the necklace that held one of the Horcruxes, off of me.” Next, he pointed to a place on his chest close to the burn. “This one none of you know about, but it’s from Narcissa. I think she saved my life that night. After Voldemort killed me, he sent her to check and see if I was dead. She put her hand under my shirt and asked me if Draco was alive and in the castle. I said yes, and she pierced my skin with the nail of her thumb. Pain wracked my body and I felt like it was going to finish me off. Nevertheless, I laid still and didn’t yell out. She turned around, showed my blood on her hand, and said I was dead. They were all laughing and mocking me. I knew what was about to happen. He was going to defile my body and I was trying to will myself not to move, to keep acting as if I was dead no matter what. Sure enough… Voldemort hit me with the Cruciatus Curse. I was flipping all over the place. He threw me up and down like a yo-yo. I didn’t scream or move at all. As a matter of fact, I didn’t feel a thing. I couldn’t move even if I wanted to. I think she used some sort of charm on me that had to be in my blood, and that is why she used her thumbnail. My body was completely void of any feeling, or control over it. It was as if I was dead. I was eventually able to move again just before Neville sliced off Nygini’s head.” Harry stopped talking and looked around. Nobody said anything although; he could hear crying softly from the women.

“That’s some story, convincing I might add.” Harry looked at Ron with hope.

“Convincing that you are not Harry Potter,” he added. “That last bit is completely made up. I’m Harry’s best mate, and he never told me of that. Nice try.” Ron scoffed and doubled his fist.

Harry reluctantly flipped his wrist and Ron flew backward and fell onto the couch beside Hermione. Harry knew he was about to pass out or die, and he really didn’t care which. He just hated Ron misunderstanding him and making assumptions on his part that wasn’t right.

“You haven’t changed at all, what with your obsessions with my scars. I didn’t tell you because I don’t think of my scars as something to brag about like you do. I wanted to try to forget. People always wanted to talk about the war, and what happened in the Forrest. I don’t wear these scars as a badge of honor, or points of interest to talk and brag on Ron, I’m forced to wear them as a reminder of pain, suffering and killings.”

“You know what? He said in a defeated voice, “I don’t know of any other way to convince you.” He turned and opened the pouch on his hip and three canvases appeared on easels. They saw a picture of Fawkes, and two blank canvases. “Professor McGonagall, the day I left I was in your office. When you left, this is what I did. I made these paintings and took them with me.” He spoke then to the canvases. “Professor Dumbledore Sir? Poppa?” Immediately the two appeared and at once looked worried. “What’s happened?” Snape demanded. Harry touched their faces and with tears streaming down his face he said, “They don’t know who I am. They demanded proof, and I did the best I could, but they don’t know who I am. They want to put me in Azkaban for impersonating myself. I’ve completed my quest and it’s all for nothing, because I think I’m about to die. Thanks for teaching me everything and for being my friends.” He started to turn then spoke to Bill. “Bill, please give Ginny the keys to the house. There will not be any problem with her owning it. I left everything to her in my will. Ginny, I have always loved” but he couldn’t finish because he passed out, and fell to the floor.