"The scar had not pained Harry for nineteen years. All was well."

Harry Potter woke up from his cupboard under the stairs, absently rubbing the scar on his forehead. He blinked a few times, letting his sleepy green eyes adjust to the dark of the cupboard. He was so confused… last he remembered he was going through the Forbidden Forest, on the heels of some dark wizard who had been stalking the school recently. Where was the mysterious wizard now? He didn't know, but he wasn't going to sit here and waste any time, children could be in danger.

He sat up without thinking and immediately bumped his head on something hard. Ceiling? He looked around, rubbing the bump on his head as old memories flooded back to him. This looks just like the cupboard under the stairs, he mused. He remembered every crack, having spent so much time in the small space. He rubbed his eyes, and even bothered to pinch himself. Ouch. Okay, so this wasn't a dream.. Did that mean his life at Hogwarts was the dream? Suddenly there was a vicious knocking on the door, and his aunts voice screeched through the weak wood panelling. "GET UP, NOW, IT'S TIME FOR SCHOOL!"

Harry was aghast. School? He hadn't attended school in almost 20 years! This must be a sick joke… He slowly opened the door, a smile etched on his face as he gazed up at his Aunt. "Don't you give me that smug look, get dressed, now! You better not be late, I don't want the neighbors seeing!"

Harrys face dropped. Why was he looking UP at her anyway? Last he had seen her, he was taller than her! He looked down at himself and couldn't hold back his gasp. His clothes were huge and baggy, obviously some of Dudley's hand me downs. He ran his hands up to his hair, still as untidy as ever. He took his glasses off and attempted to clean them, noticing that they were broken in three places, held together by duck tape.

"I must be dreaming…" He said. "Yeah, and it'll be a right nightmare too if you don't GET YOUR BAG AND GET OUTSIDE!" His aunt screamed, throwing his bag at him and practically pushing him out the door. A thud assaulted his ears as the door slammed and locked behind him.

"Okay, something is terribly wrong here." Harry said aloud. He reached up and felt his scar. He saw no trace of his wand, or robes or any of his wizardry gadgets. He didn't have his wedding ring or his wallet full of moving pictures of Albus, Lily, and James, his three children. He looked around. Privet Drive was exactly as he remembered it. The same houses, the same shrubs, even down to the same people. There went a bent figure of Mrs. Figg, hobbling down the street… wait MRS. FIGG!

Harry sprang down the road without thinking, his bag bouncing against his back. "Mrs. Figg!" He shouted, running at her full speed. A look of horror dawned on the poor womans face and she tried to shuffle away, but Harry was too fast for her slow pace.

"Mrs. Figg! What's going on here? " He asked her, his eyes boring down into hers. She blinked several times, and sweat started to bead on her face before she finally broke eye contact, looking anywhere but at Harry. She was shaking with fright, and Harry furrowed a brow. "Mrs. Figg, are you okay? You look scared." He reached out to give her a comforting hug, and she backed away, almost tripping over a garbage can.

"you… stay away." she whispered, backing up more quick.

Harry furrowed his brow. "Mrs. Figg, are you okay? Are we under some dark spell or something? Just last night I was in the Forbidden Forest and now I woke up in the cupboard, everything's so different."

Mrs. Figg seemed to have some semblance of realization flash across her face, and she managed a weak smile. "Yes, dear. You are under a dark spell." She said, as if trying to coddle him. "Ever since that car accident you had that killed your parents, your mind has these dark spells sometimes." she shook her head and placed an arm on his shoulder in pity. She leaned over to him, as if sharing a secret and whispered "Look, I know your aunt is all about appearances, but don't worry. We don't think less of her for having you as a nephew. We know you don't mean to do the bad things you do, Harry. It's just from the brain damage." She poked him on the nose and smiled broadly. "I know if Crookshanks were still alive, he would forgive you too." She said. "Now hurry up, your bus will be here soon, and you know you can't miss school or you'll go back to lockup."

Harry was stunned. "Crookshanks? That's Hermione's cat, what happened to him?" Mrs. Figg looked alarmed, as if Harry was going to chase her again. "Oh well… you know, you had one of your black outs and thought my cat was the pet of one of your imaginary friends… and you … well lets just say you weren't very nice to him." She patted Harry on the shoulder and nudged his back, trying to get him to leave.

"There's your bus on the end of the road, you better run along now…" She turned and didn't wait for his goodbye, bolting for her front door. He heard the door slam and all the bolts being locked. Harry didn't think he had ever seen her run that fast before.

Thinking over this revelation, he jogged back to his uncle and aunts front yard. He wanted to believe that Hogwarts was real, but this was real too. He was starting to feel very confused, especially the longer this "dream" went on. He decided to play along. Whatever dark magic was going on was obviously strong, and he had to figure out how to break it.

As the bus was nearing, he wondered what school he went to. It pulled up. Was that bars on the windows? He gulped, and read the bold black typeface that was streaked down the side.

St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys

Harry's mind reeled as he boarded the cold bus. It was half full, some seats already filled with boys both younger and older. They were varying in their scariness, but Harry knew what it was like to have courage, and he sucked it up, lifted his head, and walked down the bus aisle as if he owned it.

He got about halfway in when he noticed a mop of ginger hair from a boy that was staring out the window. He had a long nose and freckles, and was scowling. Harry cleared his throat and sat down. "Ron?" He asked, poking the boy on the shoulder.

In a flash, the boys hand flew up and grabbed Harrys. The boy turned toward him, and then let go in surprise. "Oh, Harry, it's you. I was thinking, who in bullocks name is calling me Ron? Having one of your blackouts again?" He asked, narrowing his eyes.

Harry took this time to look at him while the boy waited for an answer. Now that he could see the boys face up close, he noticed that he did look a lot like Ron, except he had knife wounds down his nose and a huge spider web tattoo on his face.

A spider web on his face? This definitely NOT Ron. "Oh, sorry, yes I'm having one of my blackouts." He shook his head, placing his black bag on the floor of the dirty bus as it started rolling toward the center. He swept a sweaty hand through his tussled hair, and frowned. "Who are you again?" He asked, his hand resting on his scar.

"Ralph West. Jeez man, we have this conversation like once a month…. Although, honestly you seem to be better than usual. Those meds the doc giving you working?" He asked, leaning his back on the window and propping his legs up against the seat in front of him. He looked down his scarred nose at Harry, a smug expression etched on his face.

"Oh… yeah they must be." Harry said absently, turning and looking around at the other people on the bus. Some he recognized from his … "dream" of the magical wizarding school. There was Dean Thomas, and Seamus Finnigan. Near the back he spotted someone who looked eerily like Cormac McLaggen gesturing wildly to someone he did not recognize.

"Harry… HARRY!" Ralph shouted, smacking Harry in the back of the head and then grinning stupidly. "Didn't you hear me?" he asked, eyeballing him. "Sorry no, mate. I was just thinking." Harry replied, turning back to him.

"Careful not to get a headache doing that." Said Ralph condescendingly. Then, his expression changed dramatically to that of hopeful longing. "I heard as part of our therapy this month, they're going to be bringing in some females from the St. Mungos Hospital for Inappropriate Girls." His eyebrows waggled with lecherous thoughts, and Harry couldn't help but smile.

The rest of the bus ride was uneventful as they headed to his unknown fate.

After an hour, the bus pulled up a depressing gray building with no windows. A huge fence reared into his vision filled with barbed wire and even guard towers.

TO BE CONTINUED.