I don't own Harry Potter in any way, shape or form. This story is not
being used to make money, so you can't sue me. *sticks out tongue* so
there.
AN Hey- during a particularly bad writers block in 'A New Adventure' I got the idea for this story. Sorry if it's a little confusing at first- but believe me when I say that I'm in the middle of a writer's block and really only writing this because I'm trying to unblock myself.
But- back to the story at hand.... it might be a bit confusing, but it will get better in the next chapter.
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Chapter 1
Is It Amnesia?
Harry Potter woke up the way he had been waking up lately. Slowly. First he would drift into consciousness, and, while keeping his eyes closed, he would listen for any signs of activity. If there were none, he would allow himself to open his eyes.
On this particular summer morning, Harry didn't want to wake up- but something told him that something about where he was, was off.
With a slight groan, Harry opened his eyes. Then he sat up in shock. "This is *not* my room." He stated, but before he could say anymore, there was a bang on the door.
"Get up- get up, now!"
Harry was sure he had never heard that voice before in his life. But, all the same, he slowly got out of bed and moved to the tiny excuse for a closet. With a frown, he jerked it open with his right arm, and stared in disappointment at the clothes he found there.
"This will never fit me," he sighed, holding up a pair of sumo- wrestler sized jeans. A shirt in similar size came out next- followed by a very worn belt. "At least the shoes fit me somewhat." Harry muttered, after wrenching his left arm through the sleeve of the sweatshirt and pulling it down over his hand, and heading out the door.
Three people were down in the kitchen. A very fat boy- about his age. And two adults Harry assumed to be the boys parents.
"Excuse me," Harry said, approaching the man, who scowled at him over the morning paper, "I think I'm in the wrong place... I kind of woke up here, and I *know* this isn't where I fell asleep."
"Damn straight you didn't fall asleep here," the man barked, "you were too drugged up at the hospital- we had to drag you back here. Now, eat your breakfast and get out of my sight!"
The boy snickered; Harry frowned, but sat down at the table all the same. He reached for a piece of toast, ate it quickly, and hurried out of the room.
As soon as Harry made it to the hall, he realized that he had absolutely nowhere to go. So, he went back up the stairs to the room where he woke up.
Looking around he sighed. Then his eyes widened at the site he saw at the foot of the bed. It was a trunk, a school trunk from the looks of it, and it had *his* initials on it! With a small frown Harry walked over to the trunk and pulled it open. However, before he could look inside- a screech from the desk nearly gave him a heart attack.
Spinning around he saw a snowy white- owl?
"Okay," Harry muttered to himself, "there is an owl in the bedroom where I woke up."
The owl gave him a bored expression and held out its leg. Tied to that leg was a letter. With a small grin of understanding, Harry took the letter and the owl flew to the top of a cage.
Harry unrolled the letter and started to read.
Harry,
We heard about your relatives... it was all over the Daily Prophet. Mum and dad said that you were going to stay with us this summer, no matter what! We're coming to get you today, so be watching for us.
Ron.
"So that's who those people are," Harry muttered to himself, rereading the letter from his best friend. "But now I have a whole lot more questions... the first being- 'why the hell is Ron sending me letters by owls?'"
Folding the letter and sticking it in his pocket, Harry returned to the trunk. This time, he was able to open it and get a glimpse of what was inside before he was interrupted.
"Dad wants to talk to you."
With a growl that barely scratched his annoyance, Harry stood up and followed the fat kid down the hallway. It was actually rather amusing. The boy didn't seem to fit in the hall if he walked in a forward motion, so he had to walk sideways instead.
Stifling a small giggle- Harry followed the boy down into what looked like the living room. Pictures of that very same blob of fat lined every wall. Except for a bricked up patch behind a small wood burning stove.
Harry dimly wondered why these people bricked up their wall.
"Boy," the man from earlier said, staring at him with hatred in his eyes, "I want to talk to you about your little 'accident'."
Harry blinked, and then looked down at the recently acquired cast on his left arm.
"Now," the man continued, "how exactly did you get that cast?"
"Trying to save Cedric from drowning in the pool at school last summer," Harry said, completely bewildered. "But I slipped on the tile and broke my arm. Mum and Dad had to rush me to St. Mungo's cause I had a concussion- didn't know who anybody was for weeks."
The man blinked. "A concussion, huh," he repeated.
Harry nodded, still confused, "excuse me for asking, but- who are you?"
His question went unanswered, "What school do you go to?"
"I go to Hogwarts Preparatory School- it's a boarding school... mum and dad were really glad when I got in... it's a really hard acceptance test."
The man blinked again. "And... who are you?"
"My name is Harold James Potter- but I go by Harry." Harry frowned, "now- who are you?!"
"I am your uncle, Harry. Your Uncle Vernon... so, do you know why you're here? Where are your parents?"
"No," Harry answered shortly, "I don't know why I'm here, and my parents are going out of town in a few days. That's why I was supposed to be at Ron's house today... and apparently he's coming to get me later. God knows why I was stuck here. I also don't appreciate the four-one-one you seem so insistent on giving me-"
"Dad," The fat boy said cutting, Harry off, "look at his head dad- he's got to be lying!"
Harry's hand went immediately to his head, to cover the scar he had gotten when he was five. Apparently, that was the wrong move.
'Uncle Vernon' snatched his hand away.
"It's the same shape," he said, "but a little more to the left," Vernon's tone was turning to bewildered amazement, "because god knows I've had to look at that thing for the past fourteen years... and it was always on the right side- not the left."
Harry took a step backwards, "for your information," he snapped, "I have only had this scar for ten years- and for each of those years; it has been of the left side. I have no idea why you're saying differently... but I *really* don't appreciate it!"
With that, Harry stormed out of the room and up the stairs, and back into his original bedroom.
All thoughts of the school trunk were thrown out of his mind, and he collapsed on the bed and buried his face in the pillow.
"You better hurry up and get here, Ron," he muttered, "because I don't think that I can take much more of these people."
*****
Around nine o'clock, just as the sun was going down, Ron managed to get into Harry's house with out him noticing. The redhead ran up the stairs and threw open the door of his best friends room.
"Harry!"
The boy on the bed jerked up his head, and let a grin grace his features.
"Ron! Oh god- am I glad to see you!"
"Sorry about your relatives Harry," Ron said, motion to Harry's arm, "mum was so mad- she almost came down here and hexed them. Forget hexing them, we all wanted to 'Avada Kadarva' them."
Harry didn't have time to ask what Ron meant by 'Avada Kadarva' because at that moment, Ron's twin brothers popped in and grabbed his trunk. Ron himself took the cage which held the owl that had delivered the letter earlier.
Before he could say anything, actually, he had been dragged down the stairs and into the heart of the Weasley Invasion- the father. There, he was swept into a rib cracking hug, and received many pats on the back. He winced as his broken arm made contact with a hearty smack.
"We've better be going," Mr. Weasley said to his band of redheads and Harry, "have you got all your stuff?"
"There's something you should know before you leave," Uncle Vernon said with a wicked smile, "Harry, here, seems to think that his parents are alive, and that there is no such thing as magic. Thought it would be nice for you to know what you're up against."
Four pairs of eyes fell on Harry who looked around at them uncomfortably.
"We brought the car," Ron finally said, "We can explain some things to him there."
There were many frantic nods, and in a matter of minutes- he was in the spacious back seat of the Wesley's new car. And two streets away from where he woke up- Mr. Weasley suddenly hit a button on the dash board and they took to the air.
Harry nearly fainted.
"Here," Ron said before he managed to pass out, handing him a box that said 'Chocolate Frogs', "eat this."
"They're not real frogs, are they?" Harry asked, looking at the box suspiciously.
"Just a spell," Ron told him, "each pack's got a card of a famous witch or wizard... that's what you really want.
But eat it anyway- it will help you."
Harry shrugged at opened the box. Then he dropped it. "I thought you said the frogs weren't real!" He accused his friend as the chocolate treat jumped out of the box.
"They're not," Fred said from the other side of him, "it really is just a spell."
Harry looked at him skeptically, then watched open mouthed as he picked up a new Chocolate Frog and popped it into his mouth.
Harry looked back at his own box, and spotted the small card there. He picked it up and looked at the picture.
"But-" he said, "That's me. And I know that I'm not famous. I'm just Harry."
"Read what the card says," Ron said, flipping the card over.
"Harry Potter. The only known survivor of the Avada Kedarva curse. Attends Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Enjoys playing Quidditch and spending time with his friends."
Harry looked up at his friends, "this is wrong. I go to Hogwarts Preparatory School... and I'm a swimmer. I don't even know what Quidditch is!"
He didn't get an answer for that, because Mr. Weasley started the car into a decent. A few seconds later, they hit the ground and piled out of the car.
"Ron," Harry said, staring at the structure in front oh him, "this is *not* your house."
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AN *nervously* was that completely horrible? I hope not, but this is the first time I've written a story like this. In the next chapter, we find our Magical Harry in the normal world.
This is how it's going to go in this story. There are two Harry's. Magical Harry- and Normal Harry. Each chapter is going to be one in the other's life. (It's going to alternate chapters, I hope.) This was Normal Harry in Magical Harry's world. The next chapter will be Magical Harry in Normal Harry's world.
Is that completely confusing? Sorry if it is. I'll try to get the next chapter out soon. But I'm going out of town this weekend so... it might be a while.
Please review.
AN Hey- during a particularly bad writers block in 'A New Adventure' I got the idea for this story. Sorry if it's a little confusing at first- but believe me when I say that I'm in the middle of a writer's block and really only writing this because I'm trying to unblock myself.
But- back to the story at hand.... it might be a bit confusing, but it will get better in the next chapter.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*- *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Chapter 1
Is It Amnesia?
Harry Potter woke up the way he had been waking up lately. Slowly. First he would drift into consciousness, and, while keeping his eyes closed, he would listen for any signs of activity. If there were none, he would allow himself to open his eyes.
On this particular summer morning, Harry didn't want to wake up- but something told him that something about where he was, was off.
With a slight groan, Harry opened his eyes. Then he sat up in shock. "This is *not* my room." He stated, but before he could say anymore, there was a bang on the door.
"Get up- get up, now!"
Harry was sure he had never heard that voice before in his life. But, all the same, he slowly got out of bed and moved to the tiny excuse for a closet. With a frown, he jerked it open with his right arm, and stared in disappointment at the clothes he found there.
"This will never fit me," he sighed, holding up a pair of sumo- wrestler sized jeans. A shirt in similar size came out next- followed by a very worn belt. "At least the shoes fit me somewhat." Harry muttered, after wrenching his left arm through the sleeve of the sweatshirt and pulling it down over his hand, and heading out the door.
Three people were down in the kitchen. A very fat boy- about his age. And two adults Harry assumed to be the boys parents.
"Excuse me," Harry said, approaching the man, who scowled at him over the morning paper, "I think I'm in the wrong place... I kind of woke up here, and I *know* this isn't where I fell asleep."
"Damn straight you didn't fall asleep here," the man barked, "you were too drugged up at the hospital- we had to drag you back here. Now, eat your breakfast and get out of my sight!"
The boy snickered; Harry frowned, but sat down at the table all the same. He reached for a piece of toast, ate it quickly, and hurried out of the room.
As soon as Harry made it to the hall, he realized that he had absolutely nowhere to go. So, he went back up the stairs to the room where he woke up.
Looking around he sighed. Then his eyes widened at the site he saw at the foot of the bed. It was a trunk, a school trunk from the looks of it, and it had *his* initials on it! With a small frown Harry walked over to the trunk and pulled it open. However, before he could look inside- a screech from the desk nearly gave him a heart attack.
Spinning around he saw a snowy white- owl?
"Okay," Harry muttered to himself, "there is an owl in the bedroom where I woke up."
The owl gave him a bored expression and held out its leg. Tied to that leg was a letter. With a small grin of understanding, Harry took the letter and the owl flew to the top of a cage.
Harry unrolled the letter and started to read.
Harry,
We heard about your relatives... it was all over the Daily Prophet. Mum and dad said that you were going to stay with us this summer, no matter what! We're coming to get you today, so be watching for us.
Ron.
"So that's who those people are," Harry muttered to himself, rereading the letter from his best friend. "But now I have a whole lot more questions... the first being- 'why the hell is Ron sending me letters by owls?'"
Folding the letter and sticking it in his pocket, Harry returned to the trunk. This time, he was able to open it and get a glimpse of what was inside before he was interrupted.
"Dad wants to talk to you."
With a growl that barely scratched his annoyance, Harry stood up and followed the fat kid down the hallway. It was actually rather amusing. The boy didn't seem to fit in the hall if he walked in a forward motion, so he had to walk sideways instead.
Stifling a small giggle- Harry followed the boy down into what looked like the living room. Pictures of that very same blob of fat lined every wall. Except for a bricked up patch behind a small wood burning stove.
Harry dimly wondered why these people bricked up their wall.
"Boy," the man from earlier said, staring at him with hatred in his eyes, "I want to talk to you about your little 'accident'."
Harry blinked, and then looked down at the recently acquired cast on his left arm.
"Now," the man continued, "how exactly did you get that cast?"
"Trying to save Cedric from drowning in the pool at school last summer," Harry said, completely bewildered. "But I slipped on the tile and broke my arm. Mum and Dad had to rush me to St. Mungo's cause I had a concussion- didn't know who anybody was for weeks."
The man blinked. "A concussion, huh," he repeated.
Harry nodded, still confused, "excuse me for asking, but- who are you?"
His question went unanswered, "What school do you go to?"
"I go to Hogwarts Preparatory School- it's a boarding school... mum and dad were really glad when I got in... it's a really hard acceptance test."
The man blinked again. "And... who are you?"
"My name is Harold James Potter- but I go by Harry." Harry frowned, "now- who are you?!"
"I am your uncle, Harry. Your Uncle Vernon... so, do you know why you're here? Where are your parents?"
"No," Harry answered shortly, "I don't know why I'm here, and my parents are going out of town in a few days. That's why I was supposed to be at Ron's house today... and apparently he's coming to get me later. God knows why I was stuck here. I also don't appreciate the four-one-one you seem so insistent on giving me-"
"Dad," The fat boy said cutting, Harry off, "look at his head dad- he's got to be lying!"
Harry's hand went immediately to his head, to cover the scar he had gotten when he was five. Apparently, that was the wrong move.
'Uncle Vernon' snatched his hand away.
"It's the same shape," he said, "but a little more to the left," Vernon's tone was turning to bewildered amazement, "because god knows I've had to look at that thing for the past fourteen years... and it was always on the right side- not the left."
Harry took a step backwards, "for your information," he snapped, "I have only had this scar for ten years- and for each of those years; it has been of the left side. I have no idea why you're saying differently... but I *really* don't appreciate it!"
With that, Harry stormed out of the room and up the stairs, and back into his original bedroom.
All thoughts of the school trunk were thrown out of his mind, and he collapsed on the bed and buried his face in the pillow.
"You better hurry up and get here, Ron," he muttered, "because I don't think that I can take much more of these people."
*****
Around nine o'clock, just as the sun was going down, Ron managed to get into Harry's house with out him noticing. The redhead ran up the stairs and threw open the door of his best friends room.
"Harry!"
The boy on the bed jerked up his head, and let a grin grace his features.
"Ron! Oh god- am I glad to see you!"
"Sorry about your relatives Harry," Ron said, motion to Harry's arm, "mum was so mad- she almost came down here and hexed them. Forget hexing them, we all wanted to 'Avada Kadarva' them."
Harry didn't have time to ask what Ron meant by 'Avada Kadarva' because at that moment, Ron's twin brothers popped in and grabbed his trunk. Ron himself took the cage which held the owl that had delivered the letter earlier.
Before he could say anything, actually, he had been dragged down the stairs and into the heart of the Weasley Invasion- the father. There, he was swept into a rib cracking hug, and received many pats on the back. He winced as his broken arm made contact with a hearty smack.
"We've better be going," Mr. Weasley said to his band of redheads and Harry, "have you got all your stuff?"
"There's something you should know before you leave," Uncle Vernon said with a wicked smile, "Harry, here, seems to think that his parents are alive, and that there is no such thing as magic. Thought it would be nice for you to know what you're up against."
Four pairs of eyes fell on Harry who looked around at them uncomfortably.
"We brought the car," Ron finally said, "We can explain some things to him there."
There were many frantic nods, and in a matter of minutes- he was in the spacious back seat of the Wesley's new car. And two streets away from where he woke up- Mr. Weasley suddenly hit a button on the dash board and they took to the air.
Harry nearly fainted.
"Here," Ron said before he managed to pass out, handing him a box that said 'Chocolate Frogs', "eat this."
"They're not real frogs, are they?" Harry asked, looking at the box suspiciously.
"Just a spell," Ron told him, "each pack's got a card of a famous witch or wizard... that's what you really want.
But eat it anyway- it will help you."
Harry shrugged at opened the box. Then he dropped it. "I thought you said the frogs weren't real!" He accused his friend as the chocolate treat jumped out of the box.
"They're not," Fred said from the other side of him, "it really is just a spell."
Harry looked at him skeptically, then watched open mouthed as he picked up a new Chocolate Frog and popped it into his mouth.
Harry looked back at his own box, and spotted the small card there. He picked it up and looked at the picture.
"But-" he said, "That's me. And I know that I'm not famous. I'm just Harry."
"Read what the card says," Ron said, flipping the card over.
"Harry Potter. The only known survivor of the Avada Kedarva curse. Attends Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Enjoys playing Quidditch and spending time with his friends."
Harry looked up at his friends, "this is wrong. I go to Hogwarts Preparatory School... and I'm a swimmer. I don't even know what Quidditch is!"
He didn't get an answer for that, because Mr. Weasley started the car into a decent. A few seconds later, they hit the ground and piled out of the car.
"Ron," Harry said, staring at the structure in front oh him, "this is *not* your house."
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*- *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
AN *nervously* was that completely horrible? I hope not, but this is the first time I've written a story like this. In the next chapter, we find our Magical Harry in the normal world.
This is how it's going to go in this story. There are two Harry's. Magical Harry- and Normal Harry. Each chapter is going to be one in the other's life. (It's going to alternate chapters, I hope.) This was Normal Harry in Magical Harry's world. The next chapter will be Magical Harry in Normal Harry's world.
Is that completely confusing? Sorry if it is. I'll try to get the next chapter out soon. But I'm going out of town this weekend so... it might be a while.
Please review.
