I am not your son, you are not my father

Chapter 1

Harry Potter's fourth year at Hogwarts had shown him that he couldn't catch a break. The Triwizard Tournament had been reinstated and proved that he wouldn't ever be normal, either. Of course, none of his years at Hogwarts were normal, but he could always hope, right? Every year, it was always something - this time, it had been his name coming out of the Goblet of Fire. It shouldn't have surprised him, not really, but of course, it did. He had honestly thought that it just wouldn't happen to him.

He had been wrong, as usual.

Harry had realized that a lot of insanity, degradation, humiliation, and loneliness he had experienced throughout the term had hardly ever abated. There had been many who had thought that he had done it on purpose, that it should have been Cedric and only Cedric as the Hogwarts Champion. As if it was Harry's fault. Even Ron had abandoned him for a time; even he had bought into all of it, jealous because of the attention Harry was receiving. Or at least that's what Hermione had said.

He had pretty much come to expect weird things like this to happen to him, but it hadn't made any of it any easier.

Now, the third task was two days away. He was getting ready in the dorm with the others for school that morning. He went to brush his teeth and wash his face when he caught a glance of himself in the mirror. He looked at himself, and for a moment, it almost seemed that his hair was a bit... different, somehow. As soon as he looked again, though, he was sure he had imagined things.

Why would his hair look different all of a sudden, anyway? If it was looking different, then perhaps it was just growing a bit. That was normal, right? Harry shrugged it off.

The next two days went by in a flash, and before he knew it, the third task had arrived and passed with a resounding bang. The next day, he was left numb and reeling. The cup had been a portkey. It had taken him to the graveyard where Cedric had died, and Voldemort had returned. It left him feeling numb, and he couldn't think straight. He had seen Sirius again, only for him to disappear shortly afterward. It wasn't enough time.

Harry would probably only partially remember the days immediately following the third task. He did remember meeting with the Diggory's the next day, which was hard for him. He imagined it was even harder for them, though. He was alive while their son was dead. He tried to give them the winnings from the tournament, but they wouldn't have it. It wasn't as if he needed the money!

Harry spent the next week avoiding everyone. They all gave him a wide berth anyway, and he was okay with that. He was still reeling from what happened.

"Harry, are you a bit paler than usual?" Hermione asked him four days after the task, looking at him rather strangely.

Harry shrugged and looked at his hands. Did they seem a bit paler than usual? Maybe, but he had had a long, stressful time of it lately. "I don't know, maybe a bit," he told her. "I bet it's stress, you know? A lot has been going on."

Hermione nodded, and that ended that conversation. It wasn't too much longer before they were on the train back home, which forced Harry to return to the Dursley's once again. If they noticed anything about him being a bit paler than usual, they didn't say anything. Not that he had expected anything else, of course. Now all he could do was wait until he was able to leave the Dursley's once again.

Harry spent the better part of the next month avoiding them. They didn't care that he seemed a bit paler than usual. He still attributed it to stress. His hair was a bit different, too, and he realized he hadn't imagined it that one day. He just attributed it to the fact that hair changes and grows as you get older. Yeah, sure, that made sense.