1 I...Left

"I am sorry, mom, dad. I...am sorry but I can't just can't...go back."

Kneeling in front of his parent's graves, Harry cried. He poured out years of pain and loneliness, anger and hunger to two people he knew without a doubt once loved him. Bt here he was here in the middle of the night, angry, hurt, lonely, and last but not the least, disillusioned. Disillusioned that the Wizarding world is not his home, disillusioned from the hope that one day, he could have a home in the wizarding world, have a family who loved him as much as he did, disillusioned that he could trust someone ever.

He trusted Sirius, he trusted him that he could live with him. Harry trusted him, even after five minutes of meeting him, barely knowing him but he broke out of Azkaban just for him and Harry would have gone to live with him, even if he remained a fugitive. He would have slept in caves or roadsides if it meant being with his godfather, being with someone who cared for him, loved him.

But no, Sirius betrayed him and he did it in the worst way possible.

He died.

Or rather got killed; got his soul sucked.

He died and left him alone with all but a few minutes of memory to his name. Few minutes is all he could remember his godfather by, and it hurts, it hurts so much.

He knew it was not Sirius's fault that he died, not his fault that a wizarding world was what it was, not his fault that Minister did not care, not his fault Dumbledore did not care but it hurt, losing him and all he could think of was the broken promise and his own selfish dream of love.

Beside him, Hedwig hopped and gently rubbed her head on his arms. He looked at her, making out her broken wing despite the dark, and barely stopped himself from sobbing. She was the only one who remained with him through all, silently supporting him in her own unique ways.

Now that he thought about it, everything started with her.

When he was just a hopeful, eleven years old who was just introduced to the wonders of the magical world by Hagrid, when he was optimistic about this brave new world; he got her, a beautiful white owl and he knew he just got his first friend.

At Dursleys, he got a new room and no chores and the feeling of optimism grew in him. But it all came crashing down soon. One day he found Veron in his room, stepping on prone from Hedwig. Seeing his first friend in threat, he lost it. He attacked Veron with all the zeel of an eleven-year-old and got broken ribs and week in his room without food for this efforts.

He healed, like always but Hedwig did not. Her broken wings remained broken, their bones not healing properly. She was never able to fly again.

But she still never left her side, even in those tough weeks and he vowed to one day find a way to heal her.

So soon he was sitting in Hogwarts Express, hopeful, and happy to be finally away from Dursleys when his compartment door opened and a tall boy in green and black robes entered. He took one look at his scar and leveled his wand at his face.

Just then a white light struck his face and Harry felt like his face was stung by hundred bees. He was barely make out the boy leaving through rapidly swelling eyes, laughing.

Harry just lay there, writhing in agony or the entire journey. The compartment door opened many times but whoever opened it laughed at him upon seeing his swollen face.

A bushy-haired girl entered and upon seeing his predicament, went to get perfect for help. She came back an hour later, sporting a similar swollen face.

No one helped him the rest of the day, not Hagrid, not McGonagall and even when they both stood in the great hall, waiting for sorting, no one helped. When Hermione's name was called, people laughed, when his name was called, the laughter was even more pronounced.

His face burning in shame, he walked up to the pedestal and put on the hat. It tried to sort him in Slytherin but the hallway changed its sales pitch and tried to put him in Gryffindor. But those were not his goals. Above everything, he wanted to heal Hedwig and for that he needed knowledge.

He and Hat argued back and forth for half an hour before it relented to put him in Ravenclaw. Soon he sat there with Hermione, both clad in blue and black robes, and first began.

Magical classes started and he threw himself into learning everything magic. He and Hermione studied together, spending hours in the library together. Although he studied more than any Ravenclaw except Hermione, he had no interest in getting good grades. By the end of the fourth week, he was performing fourth-year charms but his grades were at the bottom among Ravenclaws.

Then Halloween came and he decided to take a break and spend the day mourning. The next day he found Hermione was attacked by a troll and in the Hospital wing. She came to class a week later, spotting a large scar on side of her face.

The rest of the year passed in a flurry of jeers, invisibility cloak, cruel pranks, curses, and visits to the hospital wing. After exams, he and Hermione somehow found themselves going to the forbidden corridor, trying to protect Philospher's stone because no Professor listened to them that it was in danger. Getting past the ridiculous puzzles, he came face to face with Voldemort-possessed Quirrell standing in front of Mirror of Erised.

Voldemort tried to use him, but by now he was no slouch. He matched him blow to blow, his superior power and beyond perfect mastery of magic matching Voldemort's experience and viciousness.

After some time Hermione was able to cross the flame and helped tilt the balance in his favor. Soon Voldemort was bound, Quirrell's wand laying broken on the floor. He was not able to restrain his anger, looking at his parent's killer and punched him right in his face. He blacked out soon after as Quirrell's body disintegrated right before his eyes and Voldemort's Wraith rose from it and fled.

The next day he woke up in his bed, Hermione sitting beside him under his invisibility cloak. In leaving feast Dumbledore announced the destruction of the Philosopher's stone and Flamel's death. Harry did not find a red stone in his pocket until next week.

Second-year was worse, rogue elves, ominous warnings, rogue budgers, and wizarding prejudices. When the chamber opened, he somehow became the prime suspect despite being nowhere near where Mrs. Norris was petrified. From there, things only got worse. Name-calling, taunting, and whatnot were somewhat bearable but the moment he got ousted as a Parselmouth, being hexed behind his back was the least of his problems. By now he had countercurse to every curse in known and his tormenters knew that. The curses he and Hermione had to deal with got darker and dangerous.

Things kept escalating and despite all his skills, he found himself being a victim of some curse more and more often. Whenever he fought back, he found himself in detention cleaning cauldron bottoms while his tormentors got scot-free. He suffered, but he did not cry, he did not complain. He did not cry when Hermione was petrified, he did not cry when he found what the creature inside the chamber was.

One day just out of the blue Ron Weasley came to him, telling him he knew where the chamber was and that her sister was trapped there. Like in a haze, he followed him there with cowering Professor Lockhart. Haze clouded his mind till he entered the chamber, and found himself gazing in eyes of Basilisk. Deadly gaze did not as much as give him a shudder, his magic shrugging off death with little effort.

Rest was a fight no more difficult than his confrontation with Quirell last year and by the end, thousand-year-old Basilisk was laying in pieces and mini-Voldemort hung in the air, despite his body being immaterial. It took some time to figure out Diary was the key to destroying Voldemort, and it took some time to destroy it.

Getting out of the chamber with an unconscious Ginny and Ron along with a memoryless Lockhart, he was immediately called to Headmaster's office. Just as he reached the office, the Haze returned but this time he did not succumb to it. It did not take long to connect dots from there.

When Hermione woke up, she was afraid. It was getting difficult for her to feel safe in these walls and she knew her parents would not allow her to remain here any longer. But the alternate was looking her magic but she was pushed beyond her limit here. She decided on withdrawing from Hogwarts.

Together they worked on a potion to resist the effects of obliviation so that at least she could have memories of him. It was a shot in the dark but still, it was rather the best shot they had. If it succeeded, she would send a letter to him and if it did not reach him, then they failed.

The letter never came. And for the first time in years, he cried.

The summer did not get any better from there. Dursley's were especially vindicated now that they knew he could not perform magic outside school but he did not care. He just felt numb, that is until Marge came along.

And he did his first deliberate piece of Wandless, incantless magic. No matter what Minister said, he knew the magic he did was not accidental. Minister booked him a room Leaky Caudren and advised him to not leave under any condition. Aurors outside made sure that he remembered the advice.

He just traded one prison for another. But not all was bad, he got to know a perky Auror trainer by the name Tonks and learned about Metamorphmagi. By the end of the week, he knew he was a metamorphmagi too.

The train ride was dreadful, and when the dementors arrived, he did everything he could to muster a Patronus. The charm of that level should be no difficult than any first-year spell to him but in his entire life, he had no happy memory. Entire life, the only thing he ever felt was pain, loneliness, and hunger. The happy memories of Hermione were muddled with the pain of losing her, the memories with Hedwig were difficult to separate from the image of Veron stepping on her broken form.

When Dementor came into his cabin, he was not able not to summon a Patronus. That evening he gained the memory of her Mother's death, forever tainting the happy memory, his wistful dream of being loved, of having a happy family. Thankfully the new DADA professor was competent and was able to expel the Dementors.

The rest of the year was not better. When he was given Divination and Care of Magical Creatures as subjects instead of Runes and Arithmancy, he did not so much as bat an eye. He knew from experience how successful complaining is going to be. The Dementors just made things depressing for others in the castle but for him, it was nothing short of a nightmare. Every night he woke up screaming to images of Mother dying, broken Hedwig, or Hermione laying petrified.

The only respite he had was that he was no longer targeted by students. Somehow he was back in their good graces. The year passed and he threw himself in asthmatic research, focusing on spell creation to take his mind off everything else. The threat of Sirius Black, Voldemort's supposed second in command did not even register on his radar.

All these years he never forgot his goal to heal Hedwig but even after searching the entire library, he did not get even a hint on how to heal her. His only hope was getting mastery in healing or portions but he had no hope of ever getting that in Britain. The only half-blood to get mastery in the last fifty years was Severus Snape, a death eater. It was not difficult to connect the dots from there, only being in good graces 'Upstanding Citizens' can give him any chance of ever pursuing higher learning in magic.

So if he could not find a solution, then he will make one. Arithmancy was a vital part of spell creation, but unlike charms and spells, it was not something he could instinctively master. Perhaps it was a good thing, to not able to master it like he did the entire Hogwarts transfiguration curriculum in weeks, to finally have something he could do, and not think about all the loneliness, the pain.

Like that entire year passed, and one day after the exam, he was cornered by Ron carrying a letter from Hagrid. He along with Ron went to Hagrid's hut where Ron found his pet rat, scabbles. Returning, both of them were ambushed by a black dog, who pulled Ron under the Whomping Willow. Following them, he reached Shrieking Shack through a tunnel where he found that the black dog was in fact Sirius Black, who seemed to be in cahoots with Professor Lupin.

Without giving them a chance to talk, he easily disarmed and bound them, but soon it became clear that Sirius was not the culprit. Pettigrew's treachery came to light and he too lay on the floor, disarmed and bound while he released Sirius and Lupin.

Sirius wanted to kill Pettigrew but he let him live, to use him as evidence for Sirius's innocence. Professor Lupin carried Petegrew and injured Ron out, and he got to spend time with his godfather.

Sirius talked to him about his parents, their love for him, his childhood memories, and his wish to live with him after he got cleared. He could see that Sirius's love and care for him were genuine, and for the first time in years, he felt hopeful, happy, and loved. He felt perhaps his dream of a loving family will no longer be a dream.

That thought died an early death in the next minute.

Snape arrived in the tunnel, somehow knowing about the tunnel and Sirius, and stunned him, Sirius, and Lupin. He just shrugged it off within a second so Snape resorted to firing darker curses, targeting Sirius and Harry had to fight him to save his Godfather. His pleas fell on deaf ears, Snape did not care if Sirius was innocent or not, he just wanted to kill.

Just then Lupin transformed into Werewolf and all hell broke loose. Both Snape and Pettigrew ran away, taking advantage of pandemonium while his Godfather took the form of a dog to fight transformed Lupin. He while secured the injured Ron, levitating and gently banashing him into Shrieking Shack. When he reached outside, his godfather was injured under the onslaught of Werewolf.

A few blasting hexes scared off Lupin off, and he carried his injured and unconscious Godfather away from Hogwarts in case Snape came back or brought Aurors. He didn't make it far as hundreds of dementors surrounded them.

He failed at every attempt of Patronus before but this time, he had a happy memory. Few minutes with his Godfather, a few moments he felt loved, cared for and happy. He finally understood love and happiness but even he knew that memory was not enough. That little happy thought just formed a little mist but that was enough for him. Reaching deep in his magic, he pulled and poured all the magic he could find into a flimsy memory, compensating lack of happiness with sheer magic power. His skin cracked under power, his bones creaked and his flesh burned with power as for the first time, he truly pulled on a fraction of his magic. is flesh was able to withstand it, growing with it but his wand burned, turning into embers the second he unleashed his magic.

But he did not notice anything, pulling as much magic he could and pouring it into the only untainted happy memory he had, no matter how weak. He kept pouting, screaming on top of his lungs as white mists filled the entire forest, driving away from the entire hoard of dementors.

But soon exhausting due to unleashing that amount of power caught up to him and he fell in a dead faint.

The next thing he knew was waking up in the hospital wing, bound and drugged. He pulled at his magic but his magic was still exhausted, and metamorphosing, changing.

Minister of magic came, along with Dumbledore to meet him, congratulating him on fact that Sirius Black has been captured thanks to his Potions Professor and scheduled to be subjected to Dementor's kiss at Astronomy tower tonight.

He thrashed against his bindings, screaming Sirius was innocent and he had no trial, that Pettegrew was the culprit but neither Fudge nor Dumbledore as much as gave him a glance, saying he was confounded.

He thrashed more but Snape took out a potion and gleefully fed it to him. He recognized it as, the Draught of Living Death. He struggled, his magic struggled but it was all was for naught. Both his body and magic were weakened and evolving, changing he could feel that but now he just wanted to save his godfather. But he could not do a thing and soon he was unconscious.

The next day he woke up before the sun rose, somehow shrugging off the effects of Draught of Living Death. The restraints broke under fury of his magic, disintegrating into dust. He ran up to the Astronomy tower, blowing the cell door off its hinges with a wandless Bombarda.

But all he found inside was a soulless husk of Sirius, more dead than alive. He cradled the limp body in his arms and cried, he cried for the person who cared for him, loved him, suffered from him, and was willing to die for him.

He could not take it anymore, the pain, the loneliness, so he fled. Apparating directly through the Hogwarts wards, he arrived at his dorm along with Sirius. Taking Hedwig, he disapparated from Hogwarts. It should be impossible but he did not care, and neither did his magic.

For a week, he tried to save Sirius, carrying his body along as he struggled to keep alive the soulless husk. He fed the body, but soon it started to reject it. He tried to get to Saint Mungo's, he tried to heal with any and all healing magics he knew, tried to get hold of Potter's influence and money, using his Metamorpagus talent to search for every avenue, legal or otherwise, but all he got were disappointments. Potter's fortune was plundered, distributed between Goblins, ministry, and many beneficiaries between, their influence under the command of Dumbledore.

If the magical world had no solution her turned to non-magical world. He stole glucose drips, tried to get him admitted to the hospital, stole ventilation machines but nothing worked. He could only watch the soulless husk of a body slowly gave away, dying a week later.

The only thing he could do for Sirius was to bury him with his parents. So here he was, at Godric's Hollow, in front of Parent's graves, laying Sirius in an unmarked grave beside his Father and burying him along with his burned Holly and phoenix feather wand.

So here he was, in the middle of the night, crying in front of his parent's graves. Hedwig stood beside him, gently nipping his hand, reminding him of her company, that he was not alone.

"Thanks, Hedwig,", Harry said, wiping his tears. She gently hooted and jumped on his shoulders with practiced ease.

Just then he sensed many magical signals apparating at Godric's Hollow. He had been in Graveyard for hours, someone must have seen him, it was the first time in a week he was wearing his own face.

"Are you ready Hedwig? It is time for us to leave." Hedwig hooted.

Just as the magical signatures were at the gate of the graveyard, Harry disapparated, leaving the Magical world for good.