Harry Potter and the Heir of Gryffindor(01) - Sahits

After all, it was Hogwarts that really felt like home, and never seeing it again sounded like afate worse than death. If he would have been allowed to stay at Hogwarts for the summerholidays the world would have been a much rosier place-the Dursleys would have loved it aswell-but Hogwarts Headmaster Albus Dumbledore was adamant that Harry return home forthe summer with the Dursleys. Especially after everything that had just happened the yearbefore.Everything that happened. . .There wasn't a moment that went by that Harry wasn't plagued by the vivid memories of it all.Even as he crouched over his Aunt's pansies and wildflowers, struggling with the stubbornweeds overrunning the flowerbed, the images ran wildly through his head-a flush of color andcries and screams and horror. . . complete, absolute horror.It had been three months since that horrible day. The prestigious Triwizard Tournament hadended in unfathomable tragedy.Harry had seen his friend Cedric fall dead at his very feet, and he had watched, a helplesscaptive, as the evil Lord Voldemort, who had murdered Harry's parents when Harry was onlyone year old, regained power after years of near nonexistence."But Harry had escaped with his life, which is what he reminded himself as the sweat streameddown his brow, and his hands ached from the thorns and bristles on the weeds. He was alive.The Dursleys, of course, knew nothing of the tragedy, nor did they know that at night timewhilst they snored in satisfied sleep, Harry often lay wide awake, tormented by the memory ofit all. They didn't know of the nightmares that woke him from what rest he could get, seeingCedric's face still as clear as though it were right before him. How easily that face could havebeen Harry's. When Voldemort's wand pointed at Harry's chest, he should have died. . . anyother wizard would have. . . and yet he was still here.The Dursleys had never been close to their nephew, but even they had taken notice in astriking change in Harry's demeanor since his return home. He rarely smiled, kept to himselfwithout having to be told, and was often given to long bouts of staring out the window with adreamy look in his eyes. Harry even thought that once his cousin Dudley had come very closeindeed to asking him what he was thinking about all the time-but thought the better of it.The less the Dursleys knew about Harry, the more normal they felt things would be.Harry was thrown out of his trance by voices carrying over the fence. He blinked, wonderingwho it could possibly be, and then remembered exactly what was going on. The newneighbors were in the backyard, surveying the lot."Still, Roger, it might be good for entertaining. With a little. . . well, with a lot of work, Ithink it should turn out quite smashingly. . .""Possibly. But I still wish we'd taken the home in Essex.""You know that we had to move here because of my job. We've been through this already.""I know Imelda, dear. I know."4