CHAPTER ONE

Harry had been waiting around all summer for Dumbledore to pick him up, as he had promised. Had Harry been having his way, he'd be waiting at the Burrow. Dumbledore, however, had other plans.

Harry sat in his bedroom, sucking on the end of his Sugar Quill absentmindedly. It would be his birthday tomorrow – not that it mattered to the Dursleys. But, in an effort to lift his low spirits, he reminded himself that he would get some presents from his friends.

This, however, did not lift his spirits the slightest, because it reminded him of whom he wouldn't be receiving a present from, not for the rest of his life. Sirius had died last June, and it was all Harry's fault. Just that single thought made him want to just run away, and leave everything, forever. The closest thing he'd ever had to a family, was gone forever.

His stomach churned, and he sighed. There was nothing he could do, he reminded himself forcefully. Nothing.

A tapping at him bedroom window distracted him enough to lose his train of thought. He turned his head towards the window, where a tawny owl was tapping its leg against the glass. Harry opened the window hurriedly and tore the letter from the owl's leg. It was written in writing he recognised extremely well:

Dear Harry,

Unfortunately I am unable to collect you myself, however, I would like you to visit your neighbour Arabella Figg. Her fireplace has temporarily been connected to the Floo Network. Please Floo to Hogwarts (which, incidentally, has also been temporarily connected) now.

Best wishes,

Professor Dumbledore

Harry's spirits lifted instantly. Hardly stopping to think, he filled his trunk with his belongings, grabbed Hedwig, stuffed his wand (which had been on the bed beside him) in his back pocket, and wheeled the trunk out of the room.

'Where're you going, boy?' yelled Uncle Vernon.

'To Ron Weasley's,' replied Harry, lying easily. 'See you next summer!'

And with that, he stepped over the threshold, and into Privet Drive.

He didn't care that people were watching him, wheeling a large trunk and an owl down the street. He just kept walking, reaching Mrs Figg's small house in the space of ten minutes. He pressed the doorbell with his free left hand, as his right was being used to hold Hedwig's cage. Harry tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for Mrs Figg to arrive. When she did, he stepped into her house with barely as much as a quick 'Dumbledore sent me.'

'Hello, Harry,' said Mrs. Figg. 'Dumbledore's sent you already? In any case, the fireplace is over here.'

She led Harry to the lounge room, in which was planted a large fireplace. 'Here's the powder,' she said, handing him a container.

'Thanks,' said Harry gratefully. 'Er – see you next summer.'

He dropped the powder, and, just as he was about to speak, Mr Tibbles meowed so loudly that Harry jumped, sending ash flying. 'Arggh!' cried Harry.

And then he was gone.

Harry opened his eyes. He was lying on the ground. He definitely wasn't in Little Whinging, nor Hogwarts, not even Ottery St Catchpole. In fact, Harry didn't think he'd ever been here in his life. Harry stood up.

'Hello?' he called out tentatively. There was nobody around. He stood up, and with a start realised that Hedwig and his trunk were gone. Perhaps they were still at Mrs Figg's, he thought wildly. He removed his wand from the back of his jeans and held it close in front of him. 'Lumos,' he murmured. He glanced around. He was standing in the middle of an obviously-Muggle street. 'Brilliant, just brilliant,' he muttered. What was he meant to do now?

A sudden inspiration came to him. Harry jogged over to the side of the street, and stuck out his wand. Seconds later, he saw a familiar pair of lights, attached to a triple-decker bus, stopping in front of him.

A young, pimply-faced teenage wizard stepped out. 'Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for stranded witch or –'

'Where am I?' Harry asked, not bothering with the proceedings.

'Where are you?' Stan Shunpike asked. 'In the middle of Cheshire, you are. How come you don't know where you are, eh?'

'Got lost,' said Harry distractedly, wondering how on earth he could have ended up in west England.

'Got lost,' repeated Stan. 'How'd joo get so lost that you didn't know which county you were in, eh?'

'It doesn't matter,' said Harry quickly. 'Listen, I need to get to Ottery St Catchpole, d'you know where that is?'

''Course,' said Stan. 'That'll be nine sickles, but for eleven, you get –'

Harry wasn't listening. Money. He reached for his pocket frantically. A Galleon. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He certainly didn't like the idea of being stranded in Cheshire until someone found him. He handed Stan the Galleon. Stan returned Harry his change and gestured to a nearby bed.

''Ang on,' said Stan suddenly. 'What choo say your name was?'

'Neville Longbottom,' Harry said promptly. He did not need Stan Shunpike gawking at his forehead until he got to the Burrow.

Stan's eyes suddenly widened. 'Arry Potter! 'Arry flaming Potter is 'ERE! Ern, 'elp me!'

Ernie Prang's mouth fell open.

'Look, can we please not do this?' Harry said. 'I really do need to get to –'

'ERN!' yelled Stan. 'Do something, Ern! Call the Ministry!'

Harry stared. 'What? Why would you call the Minis—'

'Potter.' Ernie was on his hands and knees. 'Potter, I'll do anything. Don't go near the wife or the kids, I'll do anything.'

'ERN!' Stan yelped again. 'It's 'Arry Potter 'ere. Tie 'im down or something, quick!'

The whole scene looked quite ridiculous, honestly, thought Harry, who was completely dumbfounded.

'He'll attack my children if we do anything!' Stan argued.

'I'm not going to attack –' Harry stopped. He had just caught sight of his reflection in the rear-view mirror.

He didn't have a scar.

'P - Pertrificus T - Totalus!' yelled a voice behind Harry. Before he had time to turn around and see who it belonged to, and why anybody was getting cursed, he felt his immobile body him the floor.

Before had he time to think about that any longer, he was trapped by the body bind curse.

'Bloody hell,' said Ernie's voice. 'Stan, you just cursed the darkest dark wizard, you did!'

''Arry Potter,' said Stan in awe. 'I just beat the darkest dark wizard!'

Harry's scar was gone. He was supposedly the darkest dark wizard.

This was not happening.

The answer was one of two things. Either the Knight Bus was playing some joke on him (which he seriously doubted), or he was dreaming (which he was sure he wasn't).

These realisations were not a lot of comfort.

He didn't have a scar – what did that mean? Maybe the floo powder had blasted it off. No, that was just stupid. Scars couldn't just disappear, especially if they were curse scars from Voldemort.

But then again, Ernie Prang was calling him a dark wizard and Stan Shunpike had just body-bound him. Perhaps anything was possible. He stared up at the ceiling of the bus, wondering vaguely if Dumbledore was still waiting.

Dumbledore! He'd be able to tell Harry what was going on!

Before he could think any more, there was a bang. Harry heard what seemed like hundreds of footsteps enter the bus.

'Where is he?' asked a gruff voice.

Harry heard Ernie respond. 'He's there, Aurors. We've body-bound him –'

'I body-bound him!' replied an indignant voice. 'Stop taking the credit, Ern!'

'Yes, well, he's in there.'

Harry heard footsteps coming closer and closer. Then he heard a deep voice he could've recognised anywhere. 'Straight to Azkaban.'

Harry's momentary relief was flooded with confusion and fear. Azkaban? Harry Potter? You couldn't send Harry Potter to Azkaban. Meanwhile, the group was talking as though Harry wasn't there.

'When you see him up close, it's hard to believe he's done all that stuff. He's practically a kid.' Harry knew that voice, but what with all the confusion he couldn't place it.

'You're practically a kid, Tonks,' replied another voice. Tonks and Kingsley were here – why couldn't they recognise him? 'What should we do with Potter?'

'I say Stun him,' said Tonks brightly.

Author's Notes:

First three chapters are written, plus half a fourth. I'll update at 20 reviews, so I know people are actually reading it, y'know?

I will edit earlier chapters as I go. Your comments are invaluable when it comes to that part. Suggestions for a summary wouldn't go amiss, either. Oh, and if I ever sound non-British, just give a shout. I'm Australian, so hopefully I'm not too far off.

I know this chapter has far too much dialogue and I am editing in some description right this second, I swear.

I also promise that chapter two is much more interesting (at least, I think it is). We shall see.

I'm a complete amateur when it comes to Alternate Universe, by the way. I'll try my best.

Love, Annie.