Chapter 1. Careful What You Wish For.

The halls of Hogwarts were eerily quiet and lonely or would have been to anyone else other than the young man who wandered through them on his usual midnight ramble. Harry Potter liked the peace of the quiet halls. He was most comfortable where he didn’t have to interact with another soul.

He had begun this late night ritual the night after Sirius had died and he had learned the full extent of the prophecy. Wrapped in his father’s invisibility cloak and with his wand firmly held in his hand he would set off and before long his feet just went wherever they felt like, while his head would try to make some order out of the chaos that had always been his life.

Tonight it had been particularly difficult to get away as Hermione and Ron had been discharged from the Hospital Wing that afternoon and seemed very anxious to keep Harry company and get him to talk. But he knew what they wanted him to tell them and he just couldn’t. How could he look them in the eye when he had almost gotten them killed for their loyalty to him? He didn’t believe himself to be a leader or anything out of the ordinary, yet people followed him willingly.

Tears once more rolled gently down his face as he remembered that he had gotten his godfather killed in that same debacle. To make matters worse his godfather’s sacrifice would go unnoticed, for it had not made any difference to the rest of the world that Sirius had died. After all was said and done, what good had it achieved when the Ministry of Magic would probably not prosecute the Death Eaters who had been caught? No one would do anything to stop their activities, not even those who were supposed to be doing just that, the Order of the Phoenix. Even being able to finally prove that Voldemort was back to the Minister gave him no comfort. No, they expected a fifteen-year-old boy to save them.

That brought him to the prophecy that had supposedly proved he really was the Saviour of the Wizarding World. If he was the hero they were pinning their hopes on, why did they still treat him as a child? He never had been or would be a child. That right had been taken from him the night his parents died and Dumbledore had seen fit to place him with the Dursleys. If the Headmaster had thought to cocoon him from the Magical World, he had succeeded, but if he had wanted Harry to have a normal childhood with a loving family he had failed dismally. You would think that since he knew Harry’s destiny, he would have kept a close eye on him, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

No, the all knowing and wise Dumbledore kept everything from him until he was forced to give him a snippet of information. He told him nothing and gave him orders expecting them to be carried out without question. Explanations as to why were rarely forthcoming.

So Harry was the Saviour and now the Soldier and both professions made him very dangerous to be around. In both cases he could and would be responsible for many deaths, when the only one he really wanted to be responsible for was his own. If only Dumbledore had killed Voldemort while he was possessing Harry this would all be over and he could finally join his parents and Sirius secure in the knowledge that his job was done.

His feet had stopped walking and he broke out of his bitter reverie to determine where they had led him this night. To his surprise it was the Room of Requirement. He leaned against the wall opposite to think of what it was that he really wanted and became aware that he was extremely tired of just being him.

He began to pace in front of the door, saying “I just want to go some place where nobody knows who I am and I can forget about being me for a while.”

After he had completed his third set of pacing he returned to the door to see it had changed from being wooden to stone. It was carved with two columns one on either side and joined at the top with an arch. Within the arch were some runes that he couldn’t read.

As he pushed, the door ground heavily open revealing a long tunnel hand hewn from stone. Just inside the door was a bracket with a lit torch. Under the torch was a small backpack and beside it was a sword in a leather scabbard. As he looked closer, Harry saw a huge red gem glittering in the hilt of the sword.

As Harry walked through the door he felt dizzy and disoriented and had to sit down next to the wall for a few minutes before the dizziness wore off.

When the young man looked up he found the door had closed behind him. He also noticed he had a stick in his hand, not sure what it was for he stuck it in his pocket. Thinking it would be wise to be armed he picked up the ornate sword.

He decided to look in the backpack to see if there were any clues in it to where he was, he found it contained only items that could be useful anywhere. Finally he took the torch from its holder and made his way forward.

He had followed the course of the tunnel for what seemed to be a lengthy period when he became aware of a slight breeze and fresh air coming from ahead of him.

Suddenly there was the sound of running feet coming from behind him, lots of feet, not knowing whether they were friend or foe he began to run forwards and could now see a sliver of daylight ahead.

Within a couple of minutes of drawing his sword in case he had to fight, he heard a swoosh sound and something landed painfully in the shoulder of his sword arm.

He stumbled but kept running until finally he reached the entrance and without stopping ran out onto a craggy hillside. Slipping on the loose rocks he tumbled down some distance before a bush stopped his momentum.

His only thought was ‘Where am I?’ as he allowed the darkness to embrace him.