Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, and various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury books, Scholastic Books, Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended
Author's Note: This is my first attempt at fanfiction. Please review. Constructive criticism is optimal!
Chapter 1
Brilliant fireworks lit the air over all of Britain as wizards and witches raised their drinks to the velvet night sky: Voldemort was dead, and Harry Potter, just a baby, had lived. Meanwhile, a tall old man in long robes strode away from a huge castle to the edge of the nearby forest. He raised his wand, but froze at the sound of a deep voice.
"Albus Dumbledore." The speaker was a broad shouldered man who appeared between two trees. He was dressed in black leather, and wore a cowl that almost completely covered his face, He walked forward until the two were mere inches apart.
Dumbledore sighed, looking unsurprised. "Hello, Archer. Have you run out of people to terrorize in America?"
"Hardly." Archer was undoubtedly grinning. "I just like to be where the excitement is."
"The war is over. Voldemort is dead, his Death Eaters beaten. There was a war and people died! Good Merlin, you call that excitement?" Albus was usually serene, but recent events had shattered his calm.
Archer turned to look at the fireworks over Hogsmeade as he replied. "I heard that James and Lily Potter are dead. What will you do with the boy? Tuck him away?"
"Harry will be sent to his closest relatives, where the Blood Ward will keep him safe until he is of age," the old man replied coldly.
"Why keep him safe when the war is over unless..." Archer's voice trailed off as he spun back around. "...Voldemort survived as well? In that case, train the boy! You told me there was a prophecy!"
"You are planting words in my mouth. There are Death Eaters still at large who would like nothing better than to kill him. Did Tom Riddle survive? I am uncertain. Now, I believe you've grated on my nerves enough for one night. Goodbye, Archer." Dumbledore disappeared with a crack.
Hours later, on a rooftop of Privet Drive, Archer watched as Dumbledore and McGonagall argued quietly until Hagrid arrived, tearfully giving Harry to Dumbledore to place on the porch of number four. One by one, they left.
Archer swung down from the roof and walked over to the child's basket. Looking inside, he saw Harry. Just a sleeping baby with a jagged scar on its forehead, but so pivotal to Britain's future. Archer took a deep breath. What was he doing? Could he really give Harry a better life than his own relatives?
Making up his mind, he knelt by the child and muttered "Geminio Maxima." He gasped as the magic left him, creating an identical baby Harry. Picking up the real one, he vanished.
Around Seven Years later
Harry Potter rolled out of his bed and ran downstairs. He was a tall, healthy looking boy with wild black hair, a cool lightning scar on his head, and vivid green eyes hidden under prescription glasses.
It was his eighth birthday. He found that Nellie and Nicholas were already awake in the kitchen, and greeted them sleepily. He knew they weren't his real father and mother. Apparently as a baby, he had somehow defeated some bad guy and his parents died.
Then he had been kidnapped, and for some reason had been taken to Devon and given to this couple to raise. It was very confusing, but he was fond of Nicholas and Nellie, for all their eccentricities, and they had raised him lovingly.
As his mind woke up, he drove all other thoughts away and focused on the blueberry muffins Nellie had promised for breakfast, and the four presents in the middle of the dining table. As he was shaking them to figure out what they were, the doorbell rang.
"I'll get it!" Harry shouted as he rushed to the front door. Maybe it was Ben, his schoolmate and best friend, though he hadn't expected him this early in the morning. As the door opened, he yelped as he found himself staring not at Ben's pudgy face but a pair of leather clad legs. Which were attached to a rather large, hooded figure.
"Happy Birthday, Harry! I'm Archer," the man rumbled. He threw back his hood and bent down to shake Harry's hand. Archer had short blond hair, a square jaw, and light blue eyes. His expressive mouth was currently giving Harry a wide smile.
"I'm the bloke that kidnapped you." He remarked cheerfully.
"Er..." Harry almost fell over, confused and slightly frightened. Archer had made that shocking statement in the most normal of tones.
"For your birthday, the first gift I'll give you, so to speak, is an explanation of who you are and why I kidnapped you." Oblivious to Harry's reaction, Archer led him into the kitchen as he continued talking. "My parents have already told you that you are a wizard, and partially described the wizarding world which you will eventually return to.
"Hi Mom, Dad!" He broke off to treat the couple to a roguish grin and an affectionate hug.
Nellie was old, with wispy white hair, brown eyes and a heart shaped face. Nicholas was small and spidery, but his bright hazel eyes betrayed the mind of a genius.
"It's been years between visits, Archie!" Nellie scolded him. "Why do you wear those leather clothes in the middle of summer!" She smacked his arm lightly, then drew him into a hug.
Nicholas, as usual, hardly spoke, but returned his son's embrace with a contented smile before returning to his breakfast.
"Sorry, Mum! I've been busy." Archer extricated himself and resumed speaking. "Harry, after Voldemort was killed, you were found alive, but your parents had died protecting you. Albus Dumbledore, one of the most powerful wizards alive, planned to take you to the Dursleys, the closest thing to family you have.
Normally no one would have had any problems with that, but the Dursleys are one of the nastier families of muggles out there. They hate magic and disliked your parents, whom they considered freaks for simply being part of a different world. They would have thought of you the same way. I don't think you would have been happy there."
"Then why would he send me there?" Harry blurted.
Archer grimaced. "Living with them would have protected you via a thing called a Blood Ward, which is a bit of ancient and powerful magic. The fact that Albus wanted you to be protected, not nurtured, confirmed my suspicion that when Voldemort fell, he did not completely die. If he didn't die, that means he will return. And I wanted you to be healthy, happy, and aware of your magic to better prepare you. I will also train you until it is time for you to enter Hogwarts and the rest of the wizarding world, soon after your eleventh birthday."
"But doesn't Du- Dumbledore know that I'm gone?" Harry asked.
"No," said Archer, grinning wickedly. He seemed to enjoy smiling. "That night I performed a rather complex version of the Geminio spell, which made an exact living copy of you, that would grow up, live and react exactly how you would have if you were in that awful situation. It has seriously hampered my magical strength, because it constantly requires energy to keep it going, but it's necessary. When you go off to Hogwarts I will end the spell, and hopefully nobody will be the wiser."
"So is Vol-de-mort actually alive?" Harry queried, wishing all these people had simpler names. Despite all the crazy things Archer had said, he felt like the man was trustworthy.
"We believe so." Nicholas spoke up, startling Harry. "For much of the past six years Archer has been searching for any signs of him. He has found whispers of a specter that haunts the land. Some say it possesses animals and turns them crazy before draining their life force and moving on. We're unsure how much of that is fact, but that could be him. Dumbledore also believed that Voldemort did not completely perish, and whatever may be said about the man, he is incredibly wise."
"If he's so incredibly wise, why didn't you let things happen how he wanted?" Harry was confused.
Archer smirked. "Well, I'm no idiot myself, and I also have this nasty ability to look into the future, though I never get to choose what I see. One day I had a vision of you being raised by the Dursleys, then Voldemort coming back, defeating the Ministry of Magic and killing muggles indiscriminately. So I decided to try and change the future."
Harry gaped. Archer seemed to have quite a knack for stating the grandiose. When he closed his mouth he remembered that he had one more question.
"Are you really their son?" He asked, wondering because they were serious people, and short, while he was tall, muscular, and jovial. They also looked very old, while he must only be in his thirties.
"We're not blood relations, nor am I adopted, but they are the closest things to parents I'll ever have." Archer looked tenderly at them. "You're a bright kid, Harry. Now go open those presents!"
OoOoO
There's my first chapter. Short, but I know they're going to get longer. Once again, Please review!
