Stolen Child

1841

Summary: Harry saves a small barn owl from his cousin and gang the summer after fifth year. But as we all know, nothing is as it seems. Things are about to change. Lab/HP cross. AU – NOT in What's Said universe. Mentor pairings only. No slash!

A/N: We've seen several stories along the line that this one is based off but we thought we'd put our own twist on one.

This is not in the same universe of "What's Said Is Said." No slash. Sarah is not in this story.

Disclaimer: We don't own Harry Potter or Labyrinth. They belong to their respective creators, writers and producers. Also any similarities to any other story is just that. We did not plagiarize in any way another author.

Reviews are welcome, flames are not.

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In memory of David Bowie who died January 10th and Alan Rickman who died a few days later on the 14th. Long Live Jareth and Severus Snape!

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Chapter 1: After the Storm

A very thin fifteen year old Harry James Potter was finishing up weeding his aunt's flower bed. He stopped momentarily, wiping the dirt from his sweaty brow.

Harry looked up at the hot, cloudless summer sky. It rained heavily last night. One crack of lightning was exceptionally bright, and the following thunder shook the whole house, waking everyone up.

Of course, he was blamed for it, even though he had been locked in his poor excuse of a bedroom. According to his uncle, it was all part of his freakishness.

Now he was toiling in the midday sun, clearing out the storm damage to the flower beds.

Harry hated living with his relatives, but there was nothing he could do about it yet. The powers that be, namely his headmaster (and supposed magical guardian), had decreed that he stay with his non-magical aunt and her bigoted, magic hating family. They hated all things they decreed 'abnormal'. Since that included magic, they also hated him, for he was a wizard.

Harry wished he could stop long enough to get a drink of water, but knew that if he did, he would get into trouble. Aunt Petunia expected him to finish this task before his uncle returned home from work. Harry turned back to the waterlogged garden with a weary sigh.

He was cleaning around his aunt's favorite rose bush when he came across a soggy mess of. . . feathers? As he started to pull them free of the thorns he gasped, in his hands was a small, bedraggled barn owl.

Owls were special in the Wizarding world. They carried mail and packages. His own owl, Hedwig, was a snowy and his best friend – his first ever birthday present. He wouldn't forgive the headmaster of his school for taking her away from him this summer.

The old wizard had declared it wasn't safe for Harry to keep in contact with his friends via Hedwig. She was far too noticeable.

However, he was still supposed to write a letter and send it off every three days to say he was doing fine. Impossible! And it didn't take long after his arrival for Uncle Vernon to catch on that no one was going to follow up on their threats. Of course, Harry was now paying for that little oversight.

The teenage wizard carefully examined the small barn owl in his hands. The slowly rising and falling of its chest and the faint beating of its heart told him it still lived. Thank Merlin.

It was alive, but barely. There was no note attached to its leg, so he couldn't tell if it was a normal wild barn owl, or a magical postal one. Not that it mattered to him. He carefully brushed away the mud and leaves, checking for other injuries. Other than it being unconscious Harry couldn't see any.

In the distance, Harry heard the sounds of a group of boys heading this way.

Great. Just bloody brilliant. Dudley was back, and he wasn't alone.

Harry quickly hid the owl in among the roses where it couldn't be seen and prayed it would remain quiet. It wouldn't do for Dudley and his gang of sycophants to find him with the damaged owl.

He waited nervously trying to return to what he was doing. His cousin and gang were the neighborhood bullies, but it was Harry that always got the blame for their actions.

After Dudley and his gang moved on, Harry let out a sigh of relief. They apparently had better things to do than harassing him today.

He carefully tucked the injured owl into his shirt before quietly sneaking back up to his room. He couldn't tend to the owl at the moment, but decided his room was safer than leaving it outdoors for one of Mrs. Figg's cats to find. Grabbing one of his few clean t-shirts he made a small nest in the bottom of Hedwig's empty cage.

Once the owl was comfortable he whispered, "Sorry, I don't have any water for you right now, but I left you some of the owl treats I have. I'm sure Hedwig won't mind if you have them." He stroked the small head, smoothing out the ruffled feathers. "I have to get back to my chores, or we won't get anything to eat tonight."

He managed to get back to the garden without being spotted, and was able to finish before his uncle drove into the driveway.

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Harry was locked away in his small room after making dinner for his relatives, left with only a small bowl of soup, a glass of water and an apple

Harry went to check on the owl after his obese uncle locked the door and stomped away. It hadn't moved much since he'd placed it there earlier. He'd been worried about it all afternoon, but there wasn't much he could do for it until now.

Setting his meager meal down on the desk, he reached under his bed for the loose floor board. He had hidden many things in that secret place, including a small cache

of healing potions.

Living with his so called 'normal' relatives had taught Harry that he needed to hide his intelligence. When he returned to them at the end of the school year he knew that most, if not all, of his magical things would be locked away. Thankfully he had a pair of friends who were more than happy to teach him the fine art of picking locks.

One day when he was home alone he'd picked the lock to his former room, the cupboard under the stairs, and retrieved many items from his school trunk. Chief among them were his summer homework, personal items that he didn't want Dudley to get his hands on, and the cache of healing potions.

After dribbling a couple of drops of healing potion into the owl's beak, he made sure it had food and water. Harry then turned to his only meal of the day.

"Sorry for taking so long," Harry said softly as he ate the cold soup, keeping back some of the water and the apple for later.

"Uncle Vernon was in a real mood today. The storm knocked out several services and he was late for work. Of course I was blamed for it, as usual." He sighed and laid back on his small cot. "Typical Uncle Vernon. If anything goes wrong in his life, blame the freak."

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Jareth groaned softly as he came to. Where was he? A cage? How dare anyone cage The Goblin King! He would have their heads! They would spend eternity in the Bog of Eternal Stench! They would . . .

He rattled the cage to get out, waking the figure in the cot beside the cage.

"Oh, you're awake," came a young teen's sleep-roughened voice. Into Jareth's view came the greenest pair of eyes he had ever seen outside of the Labyrinth.

The teen placed a pair of glasses over them as he looked the bedraggled owl over. "If you are patient," he was saying, "I'll sneak you out tomorrow and set you free. You don't look too badly damaged from the storm last few drops of healing potion I gave you seem to have worked," Harry whispered quietly, making shushing sounds.

Jareth started to make more noise. He wanted out, and he wanted out now.

"Shhh! Keep it down. If my uncle wakes up, we're both in trouble!"

Suddenly, there was a sound of someone in another room letting out a loud honking sound. The teen cringed in fear. When nothing happened after a moment, the he let out a sigh of relief. "That was close."

Jareth froze. He could feel the fear emanating off the boy. It seemed he would need more information before he punished the teen for caging him.

"Well, you have food and water. Like I said, tomorrow I'll try to sneak you out and set you free. I hope you can understand me? This is my owl Hedwig's cage. She's being kept at Hogwarts this summer. I wish she was here, but at the same time, I'm also glad that she isn't."

Jareth would frown if he could. He watched as the thin boy laid back on the poorest excuse for a cot he'd ever seen. Even his goblins had better beds!

It wasn't long before the weary boy fell asleep. Maybe he should as well? He couldn't escape in his owl form, it was his one weakness. He couldn't do magic in that form either.

"SIRIUS! NO!" the teen cried out in his sleep, causing Jareth to wake with a start.

"Sirius! Come Back!"

So the kid is having a nightmare. He was afraid of his uncle earlier. If he keeps it up . . .

In the hallway, Jareth could hear a roar and stomping, locks being undone and the door burst open. The boy on the cot was still too caught up in his nightmare to notice.

"You Ungrateful Freak!" the obese, walrus-like man roared as he shook the teen awake. "How dare you wake me in the middle of the night!"

Jareth kept quiet in the shadow of the desk as he watched the man shake, then back hand the teen, leaving a hand print across his cheek.

"Sssorry . . .un. . . uncle," the youth cringed away from the livid man.

"And well you should be! Keeping decent folk awake with your shouting! I have an important meeting in the morning, too!"

The man turned and stomped out. "One more peep out of you and you'll be sleeping in the shed!" The door slammed shut and locks snapped into place as they were re-applied.

The shaking teen didn't move for several minutes, but Jareth's keen ears could hear him quietly sobbing into his pillow.

Well now, maybe it isn't the kid that he should suspend over the Bog after all.