home is where the heart is (and you hold mine)

the 19th of september (meant pain and more pain

Chapter 1

the 29th of september (meant pain and more pain)

When Harry woke on the 29th of September, he felt like he'd been runover by a lorry.

His muscles ached and felt Uncle Vernon had sat on them - though the fact that there were no broken bones attested to the fact that they had not actually been sat on. He pried his eyes open and whimpered at the pounding in his temples.

Colors were floating in his vision and there were people there too. Eyes widened and the people began vanishing. Harry cracked his mouth open to question who they were but all that came out was a croak and he let out a feeble groan.

He hadn't felt this bad since his 16th birthday and all of this began happening; the headaches that felt like his head was being pried open with a blunt knife and hammer - the achy muscles that he could hardly move most days - the glitchy vision that flashed with colors like he was seeing now - every day had some sort of semblance of any one of these things and the severity of it was completely random.

He had gone to Grimmauld Place during the summer and had essentially locked himself in his room; there was a constant screaming in the house and nobody but him seemed to hear it. He'd asked about it once but all that came was an odd look and a question of if he was alright. It was always worse when Harry went into the kitchen so he'd just steered clear of the place every time he left his room.

At Hogwarts, it only got worse. Noise constantly assaulted his ears, whispers it sounded like, and the colors would get even worse with them being everywhere; most days it was crippling and Harry didn't have a clue on how to stop it.

Harry rolled his eyes to look around, trying to see around the colors before giving up. Vaguely, he had a thought about how he was going to meet Hermione and Ron in the library, but a pain in his head swept the thought away.

He made a feeble sound and blew out a harsh breathe, eyes fluttering - his limbs felt too heavy for him to rub his head to stave off the pain or swipe the blood that he could feel trickling down his head.

Hermione and Ron had been hovering over him the entire time they'd been at school, growing concerned over what had been happening to him. Especially with Professor Dumbledore going a complete 180 from ignoring him last year to calling him up nearly twice a week to discuss things about Voldemort. Not that Harry was actually ever told much of anything.

They'd begun to just construct a time line about everything they could find on Tom Riddle. Old newspapers that involved him or anything that had his branding on it. Hogwarts was perhaps the easiest bit with the archives and files, and Harry had brief flashes or dreams about Tom Riddle's time at Hogwarts.

It had been startling at first but they used it to their advantage, though they were always cautious when one appeared. Harry would describe the events and Hermione would know exactly what to research and Ron would rearrange everything because he was especially good at finding hidden details that him or Hermione skipped over.

The Headmaster was never informed of this due to Ron and Hermione's apprehension from how he'd acted their previous years at Hogwarts. How he always believed that he was in the right and sometimes never considered another option.

A garbled noise drew Harry's attention and he let his eyes flutter open to see a blurry mass of red in his face. Ron. Half-formed words managed to tumble from his mouth, raspy and croaky. Ron disappeared, leaving Harry wallowing in pain and heat that must have come while he was stuck in his thoughts.

Harry let his mind drift to his godfather and best friend, who were staying at the Black Manor in hiding. Books and scrolls resided there and they took advantage of it. They'd come across incantations, rituals, and wand movements they'd never seen before and would receive an answer as quickly as could be managed.