Malignantly Cursed

3

A shiver went through Harry as she walked inside 12 Grimmauld Place. Tonks, who she just met, was a very warm presence. Harry followed her lead and walked into the house that apparently Sirius grew up in.

Whatever she expected, this was not it. It was old and rotting, yes, but that was because it hadn't been cared for in ages.

There was a cold feeling of dread inside the house, a row of decapitated house-elf heads adorned on the wall, and all the portraits eyes followed her.

Harry gulped.

A door ahead of them opened and light filtered out to the dark corridor.

"Sirius!" she gasped, pushing past Tonks to run into his arms.

Sirius engulfed her in a tight hug. "How are you?" he asked, his warm eyes flitting across her face.

"Good," she breathed, nodding. She was better now that she saw him. Peeking behind him, she noted a room full of people. McGonagall, some of the Weasleys, a bunch of other people she didn't know—

Remus came up, blocking her view and giving her a warm welcome as well.

"What's going on in there?" she asked, watching the Aurors who escorted her to Grimmauld Place slip inside.

"A... meeting," Sirius said slowly. "That you're not allowed to be in. Sorry."

"What?" she frowned. Why wasn't she allowed in?

"I'm sorry," he repeated, holding his hands up.

Harry frowned as she was sent upstairs to get settled in with the promise that they will talk during dinner. Though she was practically starving, she could barely eat. The whole summer had been like that. Ever since she escaped with Cedric from that graveyard.

She saw the name Tom Riddle on a headstone and her fight or flight instinct kicked in. Next thing she knew, she was being pushed back against the headstones, her bleeding leg flaring in pain.

The moment Wormtail emerged with a bundle in his arms that had a face very much like the one she saw on the back of Quirrell's head—her scar burst in pain. Harry was screaming, clutching her burning head. She was lucky Cedric was there and went momentarily unnoticed. He shot a curse at Wormtail and Voldemort, giving Harry a split second to bolt before the conjured ropes could restrain her.

Running towards Cedric, she toppled over him, holding on, and reached for the Portkey, praying to anyone who was listening that it was a two-way one and would send them back to Hogwarts.

God or Merlin or whoever just happened to be listening and they were returned to the school unscathed. Save for all the blood pouring out of Harry's scar.

Now, Harry didn't expect special treatment for getting out of the graveyard—far from it. She wanted everyone to treat her like a normal person (which she never got in the wizarding world, but still hoped for).

She did expect to be told what was going on with Voldemort, what he was up to, why he hasn't been apprehended yet.

But to everyone Harry was still a child. A child who was confused, or an attention-seeker, or too young to know what the grown-ups were talking about.

Harry was the one who confronted Voldemort three times in person (that she can remember). It was Harry who stopped him from getting the Philosopher's Stone, it was Harry who glimpsed into his withering face in the graveyard and hurled herself at Cedric to get away. It was Harry who went down to the Chamber of Secrets where Tom Riddle tried to kill her with his Basilisk.