Name:  A Different World

Author:  VirginSuicide

Rating:  R       Just to be sure.

Summary:  Magic doesn't exist.  Harry and the Dursley's have just moved to Hogsmeade and will be starting at Hogwarts High School.  Most likely going to be a Draco/Harry SLASH fic.  You have been warned, so if this doesn't sit with you, don't bother reading it, then getting insulted and leaving a flame… I'll save your time for you…  THIS IS SLASH!!!! 

Disclaimer:  I own every thing!!!  Really! I do!  I own Harry Potter and the entire magical world…  Hey! Where are you taking me! TO THE LOONEY BIN!!???  All right, all right, I admit it!  I don't own anything! Jeez!

Chapter 1

Harry Potter lay on his stomach, in his cupboard (under the stairs), reading a huge book the size of a tomb in the flickering light as the old light bulb spluttered it's last rays.  He reached the last page and closed the book with a snap, then tucked it under his cot.  He rolled onto his back with a sigh.

Tomorrow, his Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, Cousin Dudley and himself were moving.  He was feeling apprehensive about spending so much time locked in a car with his only living relatives; he didn't exactly get along with them.

His parents, James and Lily Potter had been in Government Relations.  Two of Britain's top undercover spies.  They were forever moving and changing identities and when Harry was born, nothing really changed, except, Lily mostly stayed with Harry, when James went out to mix with some of Britain's (and the worlds') deadliest criminals.  When the operation was completed, and the bad guys were caught, they would go to their manner in the country for a couple of weeks, then get new names, and move to the next location.

Harry didn't mind this life.  In fact, he rather enjoyed it.  He loved moving around and seeing all the new sites.  When they got to a new location, the three of them would pack a lunch and view all the sites, take lots of photos, and buy tourist souvenirs.

By four years old, Harry had seen much of England.  He also, by many observations, and much persuasion, had learned a great deal about being an undercover agent.  His mother, Lily was a bookworm and was forever teaching Harry anything and everything.  She tutored him through the day, so it wasn't too hard to convince her to teach him the basics.  She taught him a lot, theoretically.  She taught him all about going undercover, about guns, bombs, psychology of the 'bad guys' and every thing in between.  Theoretically.  It was James and his best friends who gave Harry his first hands-on experience.

On his fourth birthday, James, and his three best friends, took Harry down town to the main headquarters, and into the indoors-shooting range.  They spent the day mucking around and teaching Harry how to shoot.  They were enjoying it while it lasted, because, as soon as Lily found out where they had taken Harry, they were surely going to be dead.

James' three best friends included: Sirius Black, who was another undercover agent.  They met when they were in nappies – their parents had been friends.  Remus Lupin, who they met in first grade.  He also worked in Government Relations, but behind-the-scenes, like Peter Pettigrew.  He joined the trio in high school and they had all been the best of friends since.

Or so Harry had thought.  It was a couple of months after his fourth birthday when tragedy struck.  James had been assigned a new case and they had moved to Godric's Hollow.  Their new target was a sadistic terrorist named Tom Marvolo Riddle, or, as he was internationally known, Lord Voldemort – a name he gave himself after murdering his father and writing 'I am Lord Voldemort' on the wall in blood.  Lord Voldemort was infamous as the world's worst ever terrorist.  He had hundreds of followers called 'Death Eaters' who carried out all of he's indecent requests for him.  Murders were happening left, right, and center and nobody could catch him.  That's where James came in.  He was given the task to go undercover as a Death Eater, an assignment no one seemed to want to take.

It went well, at the start, but on Halloween, Harry's life was turned upside down.  Peter Pettigrew, supposed Government worker and trusted friend, ratted them out.  He was a Death Eater who's job was to tell Voldemort all the inside information in the Government, including James' job as an undercover agent, which he did gladly, to please his master.

With the new information on one of his death eaters, the lion in the snake pit, Voldemort went alone to the Potter's residence that night.  The spy and his wife would pay with their lives for double-crossing him.  The young family had just gotten home from trick or treating when the monster with no mask showed up on their doorstep.  Voldemort stood on the porch and rang the doorbell.  James kissed Lily then Harry, who was nearly asleep in Lily's arms.

"Why don't you take Frankenstein here up to bed, I'll get the door."  He said, a fond smile on his face as he looked at his wife and child.  Lily smiled and nodded, giving her husband another kiss.

"Don't be long.  This Fairy Godmother is ready to turn you into Prince Charming."  She said teasingly, referring to their costumes they were wearing.  Harry giggled and leaned over giving his dad a quick hug and a kiss.

"Good night daddy, I love you."

"Good night tiger, I love you too." James replied, ruffling his son's hair affectionately before picking up the lolly bag and turning towards the door.

He opened the door and came face to face with his new assignment and the barrel of his gun, pointing between his eyes.

"Trick or Treat." Voldemort had said in the coldest, scariest voice Harry had ever heard.  Before James had time to register anything besides surprise and shock, Voldemort had pulled the trigger, killing him instantly.

Lily, who had not yet left the room, with Harry in her arms, screamed.  She looked into the cruel eyes of her husbands' killer before she turned and ran up the stairs.  Tears streamed down her and her sons' face as she raced along the hallway to her bedroom where her handgun was kept.  She burst into the room and ran over to the bedside table.  She could here Voldemort's feet pounding after her.  She pushed Harry down beside the bed, while grabbing her gun and turning to the door.

Too late, Voldemort was standing in the door with his gun raised, pointing at her.  He pulled the trigger first, shooting her three times in the chest before she fell, and landed beside Harry, who was watching the whole scene.  He screamed.  Fear clenched its iron fist around his heart as his blood turned to ice, and goose pimples appeared all over his skin. 

He looked up from his mothers' lifeless face to the sadistic monster who was laughing insanely at his parents' death.  Hatred and anger, like he had never felt before, raced through his veins like poison.  He reached forward almost unconsciously and picked up the gun from his mothers' lifeless fingers.  Standing up, he pointed the gun at his parents' murderer.

Voldemort noticed the movement and stopped laughing.  He looked at Harry and smirked, clearly amused. 

"Are you going to shoot me, little boy?" he taunted, his smirk stretching further over his ugly features.  Harry was shaking all over and he could hardly keep standing.  Voldemort chuckled evilly.

"You want revenge, do you?" he taunted again.  "Go on, then.  Be daddy's big boy, and shoot the bad man!" he laughed again.  "Don't worry, it'll be quick, then you'll be with your pathetic, worthless parents again." He smirked, lifting his gun up and pointing it at Harry's heart.

Harry looked directly into the madman's eyes and breathing hard, squeezed the trigger.  Once, twice, thrice.  Again and again until the body hit the wall behind him with a dull thud, sliding to the floor, leaving a trail of red blood down the white walls in it's wake. 

He dropped the gun, falling to the floor after it.  He crawled over to his mum and hugged her sobbing uncontrollably and screaming things hysterically that neither made sense or was distinguishable as words.  After half an hour of gripping onto his mother desperately as heart-wrenching sobs raked his lithe form, he got shakily to his feet, drenched in blood and stumbled out of the room. 

The phone was downstairs; he needed to call some one.  He got to the bottom of the stairs and fell to the floor as he was once again stricken by grief.  He crawled over to his dad and threw himself onto his chest.  Loud howls of agony ripped from his throat over his mum and dads deaths.  He controlled himself enough to crawl over to the phone and dialed the emergency operator. 

Some one answered, but he didn't hear what they had said over his sobbing, which he could no stop. 

"Sirius?  Remus?" he cried desperately into the receiver.  "Some bo-dy has got-t t-to help-p th-em," he sobbed.  He wasn't sure how much the person understood over his crying, and sharp intakes of air. 

"Help who?" the operator had said, "What is your name?" The operator was a woman and she sounded very nice, not that Harry noticed. 

"My na-me is Harry.  Vold-emort… H-he w-was 'ere" he gasped.  His breathing was terribly labored it was making his head spin.  "H'he k-kill-ed em'!"  His stomach churned and he dropped the receiver, landing on all fours, he lurched forward and threw up.  He felt like he couldn't breath.  He was very cold and sticky from his mother's blood.  He continued to retch, sob, and hyperventilate.  Crying out as pain ripped through his insides, tearing his heart to shreds.  He lurched forward again, vomiting once more.  He didn't know how long he had stayed there before he could here the sirens.  Policeman came and took him out of the house and into the back of the ambulance, as more and more arrived, until the street was alive with blue uniformed men, ambulance workers, plain clothes law officials and the general public, who had come out to see what was going on.  Most of the public was still in their Halloween costumes, bags of candy in their hands.  Blue and red lights flashed over the scene that would forever be burned into his memory.  The noise was all blurry to Harry, so surreal.  The bodies were eventually removed in black body bags.  Harry threw up again and then passed out. 

The next time he woke up, he was in a hospital ward.  Sirius and Remus were there and so were a few other people.  He was checked by a nurse then asked to relive the incident.  He stayed in hospital and spoke to a councilor for a month.  Voldemort's downfall was worldwide news, but his identity was kept hidden from the public.  It was said that an undercover agent and his family had moved there to spy on Voldemort.  That due to Peter Pettigrews' dishonesty (how they uncovered him, Harry did not know), the spy was uncovered.  The papers had read that, Voldemort went to their residence on Halloween, where he murdered the agent, when he opened the door.  He then chased the spy's wife and child, up the stairs and into the master bedroom, where she had been heading to grab her gun when she was killed.  The four-year-old child picked up the gun, shooting Voldemort.  Identities were not known.  The world had labeled him the Boy-Who-Lived, much to his later annoyance, although no one but Government workers knew who he was.  

That was how his life at the Dursley's had begun.  The only living relations Harry had left was his mother's sister and her family.  Aunt Petunia had always hated her sister Lily and had hoped they would have nothing to do with one an other ever again.  She was less then pleased with Harry's arrival.  Much less. 

They begrudgingly took him in and gave him the cupboard under the stairs as his new room.  He became his cousin Dudley's (who was the same age as him) and his friends' new punching bag, and his Aunt and Uncle did nothing to stop it.  Luckily for him, he's parents, before they had died, had enrolled him into 'Saint Joseph's Boarding School for Boys'.  So at age six, he was off to one of England's finest boarding schools, where he would only have to see his relatives of a summer. 

Saint Joseph's was excellent, if not a little strict.  There, Harry did all the normal classes, learnt French and Italian, he learnt how to play the piano and the guitar, and also practiced Martial Arts.  Starting at six, he now spoke the foreign languages fluently, played the instruments professionally and was a black belt in Karate Do. 

At Saint Joseph's he also played football and basketball.  He had been on both teams. (Not in the same season)  He also did Art, Singing, and Dancing and was in the school's production as the main actor.  He absolutely loved it at Saint Joseph's and had obviously inherited both his mother's love for studying and books, and his father's ability to learn fast.  He excelled in his studies and was top of his year. 

Now at sixteen, his life had made an abrupt turn for the worst.  As they were moving to some small town, in the middle of Scotland, called Hogsmeade, he was made to leave Saint Joseph's and go to the local school with Dudley as it was too far for him to travel.  Not only would he have to leave all his friends, but also he will have to see the Dursley's every night, as Hogwarts High School was not a boarding school.

Harry groaned in misery and sat up, cursing softly when he hit his head on the rafters.  He opened the door to his cupboard and climbed out, he really was too big to fit in there any more.  He hoped he at least got a room at their new house.  He walked into the kitchen and started making dinner.  The Dursley's were still packing, so his Aunt probably wanted him to cook the meal.  After dinner, he cleaned the kitchen, packed what he had used into the boxes and went back into his cupboard.  Tomorrow will be the start of a new life he though as he yawned and settled himself into bed Tomorrow was going to be a long day!  He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. 

He woke early to the sounds of his Aunt rapping on his door.

"Up! Up now you lazy boy!" she yelled through the door.  Harry groaned and opened his eyes.  He stumbled out of his cupboard and up the stairs into the bathroom.  He turned the shower on really hot before stripping and stepping under it.  The pressured, hot water effectively woke him up and massaged his muscles.  After washing himself, and staying a little longer to relax, he turned the water off and grabbed a towel.  Wrapping it around his waist, he proceeded to brush his teeth in the fogged up mirror.  Wiping away the steam, he took a good look at himself in the mirror.  He was about five foot eight, which was pretty average for his age, and nicely developed.  Karate, Football and Basketball had worked wonderfully on his body, giving him nicely defined arms and legs, that weren't too muscular, but decidedly sexy.  His chest was hard and he had pecks.  His washboard stomach showed strong stomach muscles and he had his left nipple pierced, some thing all his dorm mates had gotten done when they had all snuck out and gone for a night on the town.  His midnight black hair was always untidy, some thing he had inherited from his father.  It flopped every which way, giving him a sexy 'ruffled' look that most found to die for.  He face was angular and handsome, with big, deep, emerald green eyes that sparkled and showed every emotion within them, yet they held secrets that no matter how much you try, you can never figure out what.  His eyes will captivate you, and hold you there.  Pierce you right through to your soul.  He inherited them from his mother.  He had thin, black rectangle framed glasses he used when he was reading, which was quite often. 

Harry didn't see this though.  He saw an average boy staring back at him with a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth, pulling faces at him, which he was pulling back.  He rolled his eyes at his bout of childishness and washed his mouth out.  Harry got dressed, thinking about this new change in his life.  He would miss Saint Joseph's.  He would miss all he's old friends and dorm mates.  He would miss sneaking out, going into town to get drunk with the locals.  He would even miss getting caught by Madame Brunelli and having to do all the chores in detention.  Even the detentions were relatively fun with his dorm mates around.  He would never forget the time Madame Brunelli had walked in on him and his boyfriend (at the time) making out when they were suppose to be cleaning up after the prank they had pulled that day. He sighed.  He hoped he made friends at this new school, hoped Dudley wouldn't ruin it for him by labeling him as the Free For All, Life Size Punching Bag. 

After breakfast, he helped pack the car.  Most of their things had already been taken earlier that morning by a huge truck, so it wasn't too hard to pack.  Well, it wouldn't have been if it were any one but his Uncle Vernon that he was helping.  But after packing, and repacking the car five times, several arguments and Harry getting hit in the back of the head, the car was finally packed and they were ready to leave.  The problem now was forcing himself to actually get in the car, and submit himself to hours of boredom and torture with no company but the Dursleys'.  It was a losing battle.  But he told himself, that if he didn't move now, he would have to put up with an irate and angry Vernon all trip and he quickly got in. 

Two days later, they had arrived in Hogsmeade.  Harry was ready to rip his hair out and he gladly got out of the car at their new home.  Welcome to Hogsmeade Harry thought as he looked up at his new life.

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Next Chapter:  Harry gets to know Hogsmeade, Hogwarts and it's residents.