A/N: Edited 3/11/17
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
Sitting in his cupboard under the stairs of number four Privet Drive was a little boy, currently known as Harry Potter, who was thinking about his life. This would have been odd as the child was only five years old at the moment and most five year olds do not just sit and think about their lives, quietly or not. But this boy was different. He actually had a lot to think about.
One of the first memories he could remember, was of waking up in the hospital with no memories. The doctors had told him that they thought he was around sixteen or seventeen years old, but no older than nineteen at the most. Oh yes, he could remember being older quite well. What he remembered after waking up was not something that he would ever want to relive though.
Because he had no memories of who he was, the government had sent some nice people to 'help him adjust.' He now thought that it was more than possible that they had known that his memories had been taken from him. Some of the looks he had seen the government officials exchange now made a lot more sense now that he knew about magic and what it could do with someone's memories.
They had helped him set up in a small apartment and gotten him a job washing dishes at a local pub so that he would be able to buy food and such things that his stipend provided to him by the government would not cover. They had set him up with an online program so that he could get the education he was missing as they had no records for him and his tests showed he did not have much more than a fifth or sixth grade education. And they also had set him up for a Psych Evaluation...which of course led to him being seen by a Psychologist every week from that point on.
Apparently, whatever had happened to him before his loss of memories had had a detrimental effect on his psyche whether he could remember it or not. He knew that his life had not been all panda babies and daisies as he had more than a few scars on his body, none of which looked like something he would have gotten from being a 'rowdy boy,' but the way the government officials and the psychologist looked at him sometimes made him wonder just how much they knew of his previous life.
His Psychologist, a nondescript man with brown hair, was fond of telling him that he was normal and that he was adjusting well, but John (the hospital had named him John Smyth and it had stuck when he confirmed he did not know his name) had seen how the Psychologist would look away when telling him how well he was doing.
He did not particularly like having information about himself kept from him, so he waited until the middle of the night one night and broke into the doctor's office. The information was about him, therefore he should be able to know what it was. It had been oddly easy to break into the office. No high tech security that he had to worry about or anything. Actually, the ease of which he had broken in to the office to read his file had made him question having the doctor as his Psychologist at all. Not that he had any choice in the matter.
His file was fascinating. His doctor had decided that he had what was called antisocial personality disorder and theorized that John was a functional Sociopath, though he had some traits that would tend to make the doctor think he was a borderline psychopath. It was apparently hard to distinguish between the two and the doctor thought that he was walking the line between-if such a line existed.
There was a lot of information in his file about how charming he was and how he could present himself as having a much better life than he was currently living. Apparently his doctor did not believe him when he told him that he was doing just fine and making lots of new friends. How perceptive of him.
Apparently some of the tests that his doctor would have him do had shown that he had a disturbing lack of empathy towards others and that he would be more than willing to take advantage of people if he was not being so closely watched by his doctor and the government. John had smiled at the little note that had been tucked into the papers where the doctor had written that it was highly doubtful that John would feel any remorse or guilt if the office caught fire-nor would he bother helping anyone else out of the building. there was even a document that theorized that John would be a likely suspect if there were ever a string of murders involving red heads or very old men with long white beards. It seemed like the doctor knew him better than he himself did.
His Sociopathy was blamed on whatever had happened to him before he had lost his memories, so they definitely knew something about his past. John had agreed that whatever had happened had probably affected him as he currently had no idea why he hated red heads or old men that looked like Santa.
He never said anything about reading his file and continued with his appointments as though he did not know what the doctor thought of him. He did take great pleasure though in telling him some of his thoughts about people and how useless they were. About how bored he was and how he felt the need for a bit of excitement in his life. He had found it amusing to watch his doctor eye him with trepidation, constantly worrying that he was going to go off the deep end. The man was a bit twitchy, do it didn't take much. John never really thought he would run off and start killing people so he didn't really understand why his doctor was so worried about it. It was a good thing to as his doctor would have probably been at the top of his list if he ever did get that urge and that would have gotten him into all kinds of trouble.
His life had taken another great turn when he had returned to his apartment one day and upon walking in, been hit with a red light that caused him to pass out. Waking up tied to a chair while a tall red headed man paced his little living room in a dress did not make him feel more inclined to like red heads…nor had the information he had gleaned while the red head ranted about how much his life sucked.
One of the things he had learned was that he used to be called Harry. The red head (Ron apparently) constantly called him that throughout the rant. What was more interesting was that even that was not his real name.
Ron apparently blamed him for his sucky life as he had put in a lot of effort befriending the Boy-Who-Lived, only for that not to have been worth anything when the Harry he had befriended had defeated the Dark Lord and the real Harry Potter had come out of hiding with his very much alive parents.
Had the boy not mentioned how he had gotten some of his scars while ranting, he would have though he was completely nuts. He was still not paying too much attention to the boy until he had mentioned that an alive Dumbledore (He was not quite sure who that was) had bound his magic and wiped his memories before sending him out into the muggle world.
It was the fact that the red head thought that this Dumbledore person was responsible for the loss of his memories that made the then called John pay more attention. Thankfully, the red head was so focused on his rant that there was not much that John had to say to keep the information coming. The thing he most got from the rant though was that someone had used him. Used him and then thrown him away like trash. If he had died in the process then so be it.
If he could tell his Psychologist right then what he was feeling it would have been easy to put into words. He felt rage.
The red head kept talking more about his sucky life. Most of which John was ignoring as unimportant. He honestly did not care at all about the other boy's life. The red head had apparently married someone called Hermione, and he had just found out that she had been taking potions to abort anytime she got pregnant. John could see why she would not want a child with the red head, but could not understand why she just would not take birth control instead. (Of all the tests that he had taken he had never once condoned the death or injury of a child-something that was a relief to his doctor if his file was anything to go by.)
Finally, after hours of ranting the red head came to the point. He had apparently been on his way to his wife's office to surprise her with dinner when he had learned about the abortion potions, which his sister was supplying, when they had started to talk about a potion she had been working on. It was restricted due to the fact that it was capable of sending someone back into their younger body so that they could relive their lives. She had been hoping to make a potion that would allow for time travel to gather information about lost civilizations, but now that she had created this potion her research was being scrapped by her department head.
From what the red head was saying she was supposed to be working on something called a time-turner instead as they had all been destroyed, and she was in trouble for working on the potion without supervision.
Ron, in his apparent idiocy, had decided that he was going to steal the potion. He was unhappy with his life and thought…'this could be the answer'. John/Harry/Whatever was not sure if he was unlucky or lucky that Ron had second thoughts before taking the potion. He had not wanted to live though his childhood again because of his overbearing mother and brat of a sister, not to mention the fact that there had been almost no money when he was growing up.
All of that had made him decide to track down the boy he had befriended on the train during their first year. He was going to give the potion to him instead, and because he had his memories wiped he had needed to tell him a bit about the time before he had been cast out. Ron wanted him to know that he wanted nothing to do with him if they ever met in John's new life. It never crossed his mind that John could hurt him in this new life…and John wasn't talking at that point.
John had actually wanted to resist having the potion poured down his throat-he didn't really want to be a tester for a potion made without supervision, but Ron had used magic to make the process easier on himself.
Once the potion was down his throat the burning began. It felt like his veins had been filled with lava while his body had been rubbed down with balloons. He screamed despite the silencing charm that had been used to keep his neighbors from calling the police as the static feeling increased, never noticing that Ron had disappeared from the room.
He wasn't sure how long he had screamed while it felt like he was burning from the inside out, but he did remember that the pain stopped only to feel like he was being squished to death. The squishing went on for what seemed like hours, and he could not see anything that would allow him to know what was going on.
It was only when he was being wrapped up in a blanket, unable to control his cries that he realized what was going on. He had just been born…again. The stupid red head was right about the potion. It did not dampen his desire to make the red head pay for the pain…but at least he was alive.
While he was stuck in the body of a baby, he decided that it was not all that bad. For one thing, he could still remember being an adult. He had absolutely no control over his body, and he wanted to sleep all the time, but the memories were still there (Though they were more like fleeting images right now). Now he had the chance to make new memories of the things that had been taken from him. If he was sure of one thing at that moment it was that he was not going to allow anyone to ever take his memories again.
As he grew, he observed as much as he could-looking for all the world as any other curious baby taking in the world around them. Though he tried, he found that he could not force his body to develop much faster than he would have originally. The only thing that he really had going for him was that he was determined and that this time around he would be able to remember everything. (If his Psychologist had been able to hook his brain up to a machine right then it would have been lit up like a Christmas tree.)
While he did not know if he had an eidetic memory the first time around, he certainly had one this time. He had spent years meditating after waking up in the hospital in the hopes that he would regain some of his memories, and in the process of all that meditation had adopted a method similar to Sherlock Holmes in organizing his mind. He was never more glad that he had been bored enough to read the series and do research on his mind palace. He took in every bit of new information and stored it in the hopes that he could keep it safe.
His name was Rigel Kol Lestrange and his mother was…possibly crazy. He was not positive but she always seemed to jump from one subject to another and his father and uncle never allowed him to be alone with her in case she accidentally left him somewhere. He had heard the adults talking about a curse she had been hit with while in school, but he did not have a lot of information about it. She loved him though.
His father was the steady sort. He was always around, making sure that both Rigel and Bellatrix were alright. He would hold Rigel with this look in his eyes that could only be pride. His uncle was a lot of fun, always willing to sit on the floor and play with him. Rigel had to make an effort sometimes as his uncle seemed to keep an eye on how much he played for some reason. It took a while, but he was eventually willing to spend more time around the baby toys when he realized that they really did help him with his motor control. He did miss YouTube though.
His godfather was a whole 'nother ball of twine though. Rigel had looked though his own file enough to know a Sociopath when he saw one, and Rigel was fairly certain that his godfather was probably closer to that line between Sociopath and Psychopath than he was. He could seriously picture the man killing just because he felt like it. It was odd that he felt more in tune with this man than his own parents.
When his godfather had held Rigel for the naming ceremony, Rigel had spent the entire time in the man's arms glaring at him in an effort to get the man to understand that if he dropped him…he would making him pay. When he was older of course. That was probably the first time that Rigel had seen any amusement on the man's face despite the many hours he was over at their home. Apparently having a baby glare bloody murder at you is amusing to everyone.
He was almost a year old when his life changed yet again. He was kidnapped; actually kidnapped straight from his crib by two people that he only knew the names of because of his mother screaming. His mother and father had burst into the room, alerted by the instinctual cries of a baby that had been awoken abruptly. As curses had been exchanged, one yellow spell hitting his mother, he had heard her shouting curses at the Longbottoms.
Unfortunately, they had gotten away and taken him to a house where there were a few more people milling around. The conversation that had followed was one he would make sure never to forget. He finally learned who Dumbledore was and where he had gotten his aversion to old men with long white beards.
"Did everything go as planned? You have a child?"
"Yes, we were able to get into…"
"Wait. Do not say the family name. The less we know about where the child is from the less we can give away. So many dark children have gone missing that this will be lumped with the those same instances, and we have already managed to get the most of the populace to think that the darker families are getting rid of squibs. Were the parents cursed not to speak of the kidnapping?"
"Yes. They will never be able to say anything about the child again and no one will question them getting rid of a child if it is thought it could have been a squib. We didn't have time to change their memories to make them think it was a squib though."
"Good job, Alice. As long as they cannot speak of it we will be fine. Hand me the child." The old man looked Rigel over as he held him in his wrinkly old hands. "He is the right size for the switch, good choice you two. Lily, place Harry on the table."
A woman with long red hair laid a baby down right beside where the old man had laid him on the wooden table. Obviously he had been correct to dislike red heads as here was yet another one that was going to apparently use him for their own purposes.
"Alright, I will place a glamour on the child so that he looks more like your child." He waved his wand around for a few minutes while taking time to glance between the two babies from time to time. "That should do it. The only thing we need now is to get muggles to take your place in Godric's Hollow and the trap will be set. The Dark Lord will come for the child sometime in the next few months, so hopefully you will only be in hiding with Harry here for a little while."
"Albus, are you sure that faking a prophecy about our son was the best way to bait the Dark Lord?" A man with round glasses asked from his position beside the red head who had picked up her son and was rocking him from side to side.
"It is for the Greater Good, James."
Rigel was appalled when all four of the other adults bowed their heads and repeated 'For the Greater Good' as though it were their mantra. He very much doubted that his godfather ever had his followers do something so creepy…though he would curse them if they were being idiots. Still, cursing due to idiocy was less creepy than whatever this was.
He listened to them talk for hours before a black haired man pushed into the room with two bodies floating behind them.
"I see you were successful Sirius. Did you have any trouble finding people that would not be missed?"
"No, I had to wait until they were off on their own though, which is why it took me so long. I never knew that the homeless muggles tended to band together in packs at night." He allowed the bodies to hit the floor before he dropped into a chair. "They won't be missed though. I used some of the potion you gave me to have them answer truthfully."
"Ah, yes, Veritaserum is a wonderful invention." Rigel leaned over so he could see what was going on from the playpen he had been placed in earlier. The old man walked over and started casting spells on the muggles immediately. "And now all we need if for them to take the Polyjuice." He said after almost an hour of constant spell casting.
Lily handed her child to James before walking over and handing two very different vials to Dumbledore. "The red one is mine and the blue one is James. Are you sure that this potion is permanent with muggles?" She seemed to miss the look that Dumbledore gave her at the question…but Rigel didn't.
"I am sure. It will not be the first time I have seen the effects of this particular potion on muggles. An old friend of mine was the one that found that the effects were permanent on those without magic." With his follower pacified, he proceeded to feed the potion to the muggles on the floor. Soon there were two sets of Potters in the room, complete with baby. "Now, you should all head back home, Lily and James, you take Harry back to the cottage I put under Fidelius for you, Alice and Frank, thank you for your help tonight. You have made the world a better place by ensuring that the dark is not allowed to grow." When the couples had left, Dumbledore turned to Sirius. "You, my boy, still have work to do. You need to get Peter to agree to be secret keeper for these two. As soon as he has the secret, he is sure to tell his master."
Sirius simply nodded and disappeared though the doorway.
Dumbledore stayed long enough to cast a few more spells on the muggles before he disappeared with a pop. The muggles stood and seemed to think there was nothing odd going on, the woman that now looked like Lily Potter simply picked up baby Rigel and carried him upstairs for bedtime.
The following day, Dumbledore showed up with a dumpy little fellow that was named Peter or Wormtail and Sirius. Dumbledore cast as spell that he explained in detail to Peter would keep the Potters safe from the Dark Lord before all three of them disappeared again with loud pops, leaving Rigel to deal with fake Potters.
What followed was months of future therapy issues for Rigel. Living with fake James and Lily Potter had given him enough data that he could probably write a fairly good screen play for a horror movie. He certainly felt like he was living in one, and he had watched plenty of them to have come to that conclusion.
Whatever Dumbledore had done to 'program' them, he had obviously only programmed them in the basics to ensure that they cared for the child until his plan was complete. They acted fairly normal when Peter would stop in, but otherwise it was like living with some kind of pod people. They would see that he was taken care of and fulfill their own basic needs, and then they would simply freeze in place...for hours. They could remain in one place indefinably as far as Rigel could tell, unless something triggered in their minds that they needed to take care of him or themselves.
Thankfully he had been almost nine months old when he was taken, so he was able to move around on his own. Their general creepiness had ensured that he had plenty of motivation to actually take those first unsupported steps…which neither fake Potter even noticed in their inactive states or whatever they were doing as they stared vacantly off into space.
As time went on he tried his best to avoid catching the attention of the fake Potters as much as he could. It was simply easier to hide behind the couch with a book than have to deal with them. Every once and a while he would look at them and think to himself that it was no wonder he had so many issues once his memory had been wiped…especially if he had lived through this the first time around.
He had lived with the fake Potters, in mostly silence, for months when they startled him with sudden action action. As soon as they heard the gate outside open, fake James sprang up from the couch and told fake Lily to take Harry and run because HE was here. Rigel had been completely startled by the sudden noise and then by fake Lily scooping him up and running upstairs, where she then preceded to creep him out even more.
As soon as they heard the thud of a body hitting the floor downstairs and then footsteps on the stairway and hallway, she began to brush the hair away from his forehead despite his trying to get out of her reach. She then proceded to continually repeat how much 'mummy loves you' and how everything was going to be alright. Seriously...what the hell? It was like she was stuck on creepy repeat mode and it was beyond disturbing for someone with the mental capability to know it was fake.
When the door burst open she stood between Rigel and his godfather, who was wearing a glamour he had used once when he had tried to scare Rigel as a baby. While his mother and father had laughed at his disgruntled look his godfather had impressed when Rigel had just glared at him again. Kind of like what he was doing now.
For the first time in months, Rigel wished he had practiced speaking more. He had avoided making much noise as he hated having the fake Potters 'wake' and give him attention. It would have been handy though to tell his godfather who he was. Instead, he was stuck glaring at the man for not knowing who he was instinctually while he killed the fake Lily. Shouldn't the man be able to tell or something?
The Dark Lord had just raised one brow at the glare before he had pointed the wand at the child and whispered a spell that speed towards Rigel in a flash of dark blue. Now he did not know what dinistrio'r bygythiad i'r tywyllwch meant, though he doubted very much that it had anything to do with dinosaurs, but he did know that it hurt. After a few moments where it felt like the magic was digging deep into his body, it rushed back out and towards his godfather. Right before the spell hit he saw his godfather's eyes widen and heard him whisper 'Rigel?' It was about time...though a little bit two late.
Rigel didn't remember anything after that, until he came to with the man named Sirius glaring down at him in his crib. His entire facial expression changed immediately when the biggest man Rigel had ever seen entered the room with tears running down his cheeks.
"Oh, it's you Sirius. I just can't believe it. Not James and Lily Potter." The huge man used a huge handkerchief to blow his nose noisily.
"I know." Sirius did not seem to know what else to say as he looked at the body that was a placeholder for his best friend's wife. "Why are you here Hagrid?"
"Dumbledore sent me to take little Harry to him." Two huge hands were used to wipe away the tears that were still rolling down his cheeks. "Good man, Dumbledore."
"Dumbledore, right. You take…Harry to Dumbledore. You can borrow my bike. I have something I need to take care of." Sirius quickly lifted a silent Rigel and handed him to Hagrid before leaving the room without saying anything else.
Rigel then had to endure a nauseating ride on a motorbike that actually flew, while the large man simply held him in the crook of his elbow. Rigel ended up staying as still as possible in the attempt to prevent a situation where he could easily been dropped. He didn't bother looking around until they had landed and the large man took him into what appeared to be a castle.
They met Dumbledore in a hallway and Hagrid did not notice anything odd as he handed the child he was carrying to the old man before he was told to get something to eat in the kitchens. Rigel however, noticed that the suggestion to visit the kitchens was accompanied by a little wand waving.
Dumbledore then carried Rigel into what appeared to be his office, where Lily and James Potter were waiting with their Harry Potter sitting on his father's lap and slobbering all over his robes. Dumbledore waved his wand and conjured a play pen beside his chair before he deposited the baby and sat down.
"What are we going to do, Albus?" James asked quietly.
"We continue, my boy. The plan is not finished yet, but it is still useful. Right now the wizarding world is already singing the praises of your son. While Lord Voldemort is not gone for good, neither is the child that is playing the part of your son. We will just have to see this through a little longer." Dumbledore looked at the two adults in front of him for a moment before continuing. "It is for the Greater Good, my boy."
Both nodded and repeated "for the Greater Good" before Dumbledore continued.
"Now then, you two and Harry must stay in hiding until Lord Voldemort is truly dead. Hopefully the child will die at the same time, but if he survives again, we can always wipe his memory and bind his magic like the children we have passed off as squibs over the years. I think it would be best to send this child to your sister Lily. She hates magic and will ensure that he is humble and easy to manipulate against the Dark Lord when he receives his Hogwarts letter. I will then be able to use the boy to bait Lord Voldemort into a confrontation again. Once they have both been taken care of, you can reenter society and Harry can take the place of the fake."
Lily and James exchanged a look before nodding their heads in agreement.
"We need this to look as real as possible, so I will take up the position of Harry Potter's Magical Guardian. I will go to the bank and move some Galleons to a new Vault that will be for your personal use. The majority will remain in the family vault, and of course the family vault will be used to fill the heir vault when there is a withdraw."
"Isn't that a bit risky? What if the boy spends all of our money before we are rid of him?" James looked worried.
"I doubt the boy will be able to spend much of the money. I will have the keys and will ensure that they stay in my possession or at the very least that he has no opportunity to go into Diagon Alley himself. We will plan more once I get the child over to your sister's. I will have Hagrid take him there as I am fairly sure that Minerva is already there. I do not want her to know that I have already seen the child tonight."
Nothing much more was said before he was once again handed off to the huge man and flown over the countryside. It was only slightly less nauseating the second time. Rigel then had the dubious pleasure of being left on the doorstep of a very normal looking house. It was hours before exhaustion forced Rigel into sleep, something he wanted to avoid just in case a pack of rabid dogs came this way or something. He was not allowed to sleep for long though, as he was abruptly awoken by the shriek of a horse faced woman. Not to long after that, he was shoved onto a crib mattress that had been placed in the cupboard under the stairs and mostly forgotten about.
For the most part, the next few years were spent with Rigel ignoring the Dursleys and them ignoring him. Lately, however, Rigel had noticed that the looks they were giving him were changing. A normal child would not know what that look was, but Rigel did. He could see the hatred growing in their eyes now that he was about to start school and it would be harder for them to ignore his existence.
Turning his attention to the door of his cupboard, he could hear Petunia moving around in the kitchen. Smirking as he pushed open his little door, Rigel prepared to confront his 'aunt.' It was time to make a change. This time around he would do things his way.
My name is not John Smyth; it is not Harry James Potter.
My name is Rigel Kol Lestrange, and this time…I know who I am.
dinistrio'r bygythiad i'r tywyllwch - destroy the threat to the darkness- google translate Welsh to English.