AU: Something I wrote for fun. The romance starts between quickly so don't worry too much about that. If people are interested in the story, I will post more updates. I take a huge amount of creative liberties with the characters, so if that's not what you like then this story is probably not for you.
Would love a beta to bounce ideas off of and for editing purposes (looking for someone who can help me with pacing, general prose style, story ideas)
"Four days. And there's no point in arguing! We've told you already: no more of this unnatural weirdness. Next time? It's going to be eight days! Now, get out," Vernon Dursley pushed the ten-year-old Harry Potter out of the doorway and locked it shut.
The first time they doled out this punishment, Harry was forced to survive on his own in the lonely streets for two days. Harry sat on the pavement just beyond the garden. The air was blowing strangely that night, and an uncanny shiver rode through Harry's back. There was a density in the summer air that flattened the suburbia of Privet Drive, and everything was too quiet. The manicured trees stood dead-like, their green leaves not rustling, without a wind to swish through their boughs.
A small flashlight turned on and a chubby boy opened the back door and snuck out of the house. Seeing Harry, he ran towards him. Harry put his finger up to his lips to warn the boy to whisper.
"Harry! This was all I could manage. I put all my cookies in there. Dad and Mom will just think I ate them all. I also put a full water bottle mixed with orange concentrate inside," Dudley handed him his backpack and took off Harry's coat from his shoulders, "I got your coat as well, here."
He gave Harry a big hug. "I hope you'll be alright for the next four days, I'll keep finding you food, just meet me here at the same time every night. Maybe I can even finish you some money if I look hard enough, Dad and Mom always give me some when I ask for it."
Harry was tearing up a little bit. His little cousin had always looked up to him and helped him whenever he was being punished. How was such a kind boy the spawn of two savages. It was a strange, strange world. "Thank you Duds. Don't tell Izzy where I am, alright? Try to get Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon to lie to her that I'm on a school trip or something, or staying over at a friend's house. Take care of her for me while I'm gone, please."
"That's what they always say, anyway. But I'll do my best, Harry! Izzy's my best friend, I'm sure I can cheer her up if she starts to miss you," Dudley gave him a big smile and the thumbs up.
Harry, got closer to Dudley and whispered tensely. "That's a good boy. Now, get back inside before they catch us. If they see you, you'll get in trouble as well."
"Alright, Harry. But where are you going to sleep?" Dudley asked, his forehead knitted with worried.
"I'll find some place. I always do." Harry replied, trying to keep up a brave face.
After another hug, Dudley snuck back inside and Harry began wandering down their street, watching his oblong shadow grow and shrink as he passed each street lamp, trying to figure out where was the best place to stay for tonight. He couldn't help but feel like he was being watched, but he told himself to be brave. Whenever he took more than a few steps, he'd stop to turn and check if anyone was behind me. The motion fanned the paranoia in his body and his heart had begun to thump violently while his breathing had compressed into half beats of inhales and exhales.
Every dog's bark was turned into a wolf's howl and every chirp of the songbirds sounded like a frightening raven's caw. A ten-year old's mind was a sensitive place, and Harry was starting to imagine the shadows contorting unnaturally, shooting off the ground and, like the tendrils of a monster, pursuing him through the streets. He looked up at the sky but the moon was no comfort as he quickened his step. The stars-too far away. Harry began to run until he reached a swing that he used to sit on alone. The street lamps with their powerful orange lights boarded up the square shaped playground, erecting a parapet of light around it. Inside, Harry felt safe and could finally regain his breath and maybe rest. Maybe he would sleep inside that playground.
He crawled into one of the play tunnels and put his backpack down, unzipped it, and looked through it. There was enough food for one or two meals. Little Dudley couldn't understand that turning the water sweet would not make his experience any better, but he appreciated the effort. He could always head to the public toilets at the corner store two miles away for some tap water. Harry's mind wandered as he thought about his parents and Sirius. Why did Sirius desert them? He dreamt of the night when their parents died.
Harry limped with his childish gait into the room holding a brown teddy bear with a ribbon gracefully tied around its neck to see his mom and dad on the floor, their clothes all wrong. They never slept on the floor like that, and they only ever slept in their pajamas. Izzy was crying uncontrollably. Sirius was furious and shouting and wailing. All Harry could think to do was try and shake his mom awake.
"Mommy, wake up. Mommy?" Harry said as he shook her harder and harder. Her eyelids weren't shut. His mommy never slept like that without shutting her eyelids. She just laid on the floor limply.
He could see that the green of her eyes had withered and that there was nothing left. So, he started to shake her harder, her lifeless corpse flopping with his violent pushing and pulling.
"She's dead, Harry! She's dead! Stop touching her! They're all dead!" Sirius yelled, pulling Harry away before falling on to his knees, tears streaming down his handsome face - his fingers pulling his hair desperately. "And it's all my fault. My fault. My Fault." He started to repeat in a hysteria, singing the words in the melody of a nursery rhyme.
Harry was crying. He knew their family was in a sort of danger, but he never imagined that his parents would leave. Were they never coming back? Sirius had brought him toy shopping that day to help choose Izzy a present for her first birthday. If he was here, maybe this wouldn't have happened. Why did he go? Why didn't he stay? If he stayed then he could have helped. But he didn't. But Izzy was still here. Harry pushed himself off the floor with his small hands and climbed up the wooden crib to take Izzy into his arms.
"Don't cry, Izzy. Don't cry. I'll always be here for you, okay?" He tried to whisper in a soothing voice, but tears and sniffles prevented his prosody from drifting into any kind of comforting lilt.
"Stay right here, and protect Izzy with your life. I'm going to go kill the one that is responsible." Sirius said with a crazed glint in his eyes, like a starved animal, as he ran out of the room and rushed down the stairs. Harry could hear the front door slam shut. The little teddy bear he brought for Izzy laid on its back beside the door, alone.
But Sirius never came back, and a tall old man took them the Dursleys and left them there. His relatives loved Izzy, because nothing strange ever happened around her, so in their eyes, it was always Harry who was the culprit. Even from such an early age, Harry knew that the key to the Dursley's chained hearts was the insistence of normality (just an appreciation and focus on it). They kept him in a cupboard and gave Izzy a room. But he knew what his life's purpose was. It was to protect her, and he did his task admirably as a child. He hugged her when she cried and threatened the kids that bullied her. He took the blame for any of the accidental magic she performed, even though his own powers had always been stable. And tonight was the same. Izzy was an emotional girl, which meant that she was incredibly hard to contain. She had levitated some flowers into the air out of sheer boredom, and, growing more and more excited as she saw what was happening, shattered an expensive porcelain vase, with its glass shards stabbing dangerously into the air. Straight away, Harry ran to his Uncle and claimed it was him. And now he was out here, and she was inside.
He breathed as slowly as he could to try to calm himself. He had powers, if anyone tried to hurt him he would hurt them back. The play tunnel had two exits, and he kept turning over to look at one side before the other, feeling unsafe and anxious.
Without any warning, a croaky voice sounded out from the distance, alongside a patter of footsteps that was crescendoing in noise, "Here, little Harry. Don't be scared."
Harry's heart was pounding out of control. His fears had been realised. Who the hell was that? How did he know his name? He wanted to run but his feet refused to move.
A wizened old man, who wore black robes, walked towards him holding out a wand. His hair was dark and speckled with grey, and he had a wild beard that looked like untamed patches of weeds. But his face looked weary, not lecherous, nor dangerous. "Don't try to run. Let me talk to you. I have good intentions I promise." He put his wand down in good faith.
Harry, with a weak voice, and a bit of a stutter responded, "What do you want! And how do you know my name!"
"I'm a wizard, Harry. A powerful one. And before you head off to Hogwarts next year. I'm going to take care of you and teach you everything I know."
Harry tried to evaluate his motives but his instincts convinced him that the man meant no malice. "Why me?" He asked, finally.
"Because you are gifted and strong, my child. Strong enough to one day be my redemption," He said, scratching his beard - his fingernails, with its haphazard shapes and bruised colors, crackled along his coarse hairs.
Taking his time to adjust himself as he looked at Harry up and down, he sat across from him, cross-legged. His dark blue eyes were the only parts of him that moved as he examined Harry, the rest of his body remained still and serene.
"Will you agree to let me take you as an apprentice?"
"Why me?"
Harry felt a sudden presence sway his mind and memories emerged one after the other, one on top of the other, forgotten stories, lost moments of bliss spent in the loving caress of his mother, his first time looking at Izzy; his dead mother; the trees darkling under the low grey clouds that nearly dusted the tops of the branches, and right in front of the trees, the old man again. Harry shook his head as the images vanished, there was a strange pain creeping up the nape of his neck, and he massaged it until it went away. When he looked up, the man began to smile at him.
"I've been watching you. You require the assistance, or the mentorship, of somebody who can teach you how to protect yourself and your sister." He spoke in a slow and punctuated way that made every pause feel like the tense calm before a droplet resumes its tumblings from a leaking pipe.
Harry shook his head, though he wished so dearly that he could explore his magic. "If you teach me, then who's going to take care of my sister."
"You won't have to live with me. I'll take you with me whenever you can spare the time." He said, laughing controllably.
The wizard flashed a crescent and yellow grin at him."You can do both, child, don't you see?"
"What if my uncle and aunt catch you?"
The man took out a wand and pointed it at himself. "They won't. See: I can turn myself invisible whenever I want to.?"
He vanished into thin air and then reappeared again, causing Harry's eyes to brighten up in wonder.
"Then you'll teach me how to control my powers and fight?" He asked excitedly.
The old man stared at his eyes without blinking for the longest time. Harry could feel an energy moving around his head, but it was gentle, more of a caress than the storm of images he was surrounded in just now.
"Well?"
"No. Your sister is the sword. You are the shield. If I teach you aggressive magic while you're still at such a tender age, it would be dangerous. You will only grow wild with power like I once did. Violence must be slowly introduced, for it can turn the most well-intentioned men into monsters." He replied.
Harry thought he saw regret in the old man's dull blue eyes.
"What do you mean? What use will you be to me if I can't help my sister to kill her enemies?" Harry asked, desperately, his anger rising from his chest.
"Your first reaction is to want to "kill" her enemies. Understand this, Harry. For I have gazed into your mind and understand your core. I see an angry, impulsive, ruthless soul with little patience and foresight. Someone who will abuse power as soon as he receives it. I see myself. You will not walk down the same road I have. And you will not learn how to attack until I make sure you can handle power."
"What did he mean by gazed into his head? Before Harry could retort, the man stretched out his hand. "Now come, child, I may not teach you how to harm others, but I will at least give you the fundamentals of magic that can serve you with other utility. We have much to do in the next four days."
Harry stood up with his backpack strapped around his shoulders and grabbed the man's hand, but stubbornly refused to move until the old man turned around.
"Wait, you know my name, can't you at least tell me yours as well?"
The old man laughed and nodded. "A fair trade. I am Gellert Grindelwald. But you can call me Gelly."