Summary: From a Muggle's viewpoint, Harry's life and world seem unbelievable. Then again, they don't know about magic.
AN: Very often, Harry deals with the Muggle world and is forced to hide the truth about his origins. While the Statue of Secrecy prevents him from actually mentioning magic, there is a lot more to his life that he is allowed to talk about.
Although this story is, with the exception of J.K. Rowling's immortal work, obviously, completely stand alone, it came to me while reading "Harry Potter and the Ascension of Ra" by Apocalypse Thou. As a credit to his work, I will borrow Smallville's characters (well, mostly their names) and his setting (Chapter 11 – Halloween). No background knowledge is required, though.
As far as I know, nobody ever used this method of introduction, so this is more of a concept then a real story. If you want to, please feel free, just drop me a note.
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Explanations
Harry shifted uncomfortably, taking note of the three pairs of eyes following his every movement.
"They all died. Everybody close to me is dead, murdered, so I finished up what I had to do, and got out of there. I could not stand it any longer."
Immediately, the three females across from him jerked back in horror, although, moments later, their reaction varied greatly.
Lana slowly got to her feet and set down next to him, carefully taking his hands in hers, and giving them a slight squeeze, her eyes full of compassion.
Lois eyes darted around the room, never completely leaving him, but also clearly searching. For what, Harry could not say, although he suspected either threats or exits.
Chloe, meanwhile, leant forward and tried to catch his eye. When he finally returned her gaze, her eyes seemed to bore into his soul. "Murdered? How? Why?"
Lana gave her friend a hard stare, slightly shaking her head. "You don't have to answer, Harry. We don't want to bring up memories."
Even in his emotional state, though, Harry could easily see the curiosity in all three of them.
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and sank back into his couch, both to calm himself, and to buy some time. They had come to him to help him, and they had proven to be his friends.
"A lot of that is classified information. There are a lot of laws and mechanisms in place to prevent this information from getting out, so I can not tell you everything.
Sometimes, it might seem strange, while at other times, it is more easily understandable."
Reopening his eyes, Harry saw Chloe's curiosity peaked, while the other two seemed confused.
"Laws? Why would the government care about your life?" Lois question. "Trust me, you are not that special."
Except for an half-hearted smile, Harry completely ignored the question.
"Back in the Dark Ages, a few highly influential families have worked together to establish a school in Scotland that still exists today. Besides a dozen or so hand-picked, highly talented students each year, the Hogwarts School for the gifted only accepts the offspring of at least one alumni.
Over the centuries, alumni have founded more schools all over the world - the Beauxbatons Academy in France, the Durmstrang Institute in Bulgaria and the Salem Institute here in the US are the biggest of those.
While some of the students eventually start normal careers, most choose to stay behind, and live in the direct periphery of the schools, or in special, isolated communities.
Eventually, thanks to the then above-average education, the leaders of those communities have managed to hold positions of power, and negotiated the schools independence. Many of us are still pears of the realm, and have seats on the British House of Lords.
Since that day, the alumni of those schools have had their own government, with our own laws, and our own financial system."
Harry paused for a moment, taking the time to inspect his three pupils.
Chloe had produced a piece of paper, and was furiously scribbling along. Thinking back to his late over-achieving, bushy-haired friend, who was so similar and yet so different, Harry smiled sadly.
The young reported, noticing the pause, immediately launched her questions. "Hold on. Are you saying there is a whole shadow-society out there? People who are living as outlaws, isolated from and forgotten by the rest of us? There is no way, at least not on the scale you are describing."
Sighing, Harry stood, crossing his living room and pulled his money bag from one of the hallway's locked cupboards.
"As I said, we have our own financial system. The largest bank is called Gringotts. This is a Knut, our smallest coin. Twenty-nine of them make a Sickle, and seventeen of those a Galleon. Depending on the exchange rate, a Galleon is worth just over seven US-Dollar."
Fascinated, the three girls inspected the well used coins, turning them in their hands while giggling slightly at the strange conversation rates.
"Are those dragons?" Lana finally asked. "Why?"
Harry shrugged helplessly. "The design is almost a thousand years old. The current theory is that the beasts were supposed to represent the ruthlessness, ferocity and strength of our world."
"Anyways, my dad was from one of the oldest families, while my mum was one of the outsiders allowed in. As such, I was guaranteed a spot at Hogwarts when I turned eleven.
Hogwarts is a lot like other schools, and even more similar to boarding schools, but it is also completely different. Our history is very important to us. Paintings and statues line the castle, and our history class is almost exclusively about the deeds of members of our world.
We have some really strange courses, as well, though. Astronomy is not so bad, but there are also electives on the study of Ancient Runes and Divination. The later is considered a joke amongst most of the kids, though.
In our spare time, we play chess and cards, but also Quidditch. As I said earlier, there are some really strange laws in place. One of them prevents me from talking about the rules of the game."
For the first time in his lecture, Harry managed to get a small smile out of the girls, although they still seemed mostly confused. Exhaling slowly, Harry stood and started to pace, now completely serious.
"There is a lot of disagreement amongst my people about the treatment of outsiders, so called Muggles. The Neutrals are content with the status quo. Introducing a bit of new blood every year to prevent inbreeding, and letting the rest of you live in peace.
The Light side wishes to approach the larger world. They think that the time of isolation has lasted long enough, and they try to make reparations. Obviously, since I live here, I am one of those Light-Siders.
The so called Dark side, on the other hand, wants complete isolation as their short term goal. There is a lot of Racism towards Muggles and Muggleborn. Every generation so, some of them get together and try to cleanse our society from the Muggleborn and to ultimately take charge of the Muggles.
For the most part, our police, the Aurors, are able to contain such movements. Every once in a while, somebody actually manages to detonate a bomb or assassinate somebody, but usually, we are quiet good in disguising the truth, especially since the Muggle government is cooperating with us on that.
While my parents were in school, though, a young, extremely talented and ruthless man named Tom Riddle rose to power, claiming the name and resources of one of the four founding fathers of Hogwarts. Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin, Riddles forefather, are still highly respected for their achievements and foresight.
With his linage, in a world that views family as a defining element for one's character, Riddle easily gained followers.
For the next twenty years, Riddle waged a war against our society. The number of gas pipe explosions, short-circuit burnings and other strange, fatal accidents sky-rocketed, as Riddle, self styled as Lord Voldemord, and his followers, the Death Eaters, murdered their way through Britain. It was so bad that most people were afraid to use his name, calling him simply You-Know-Who. Thousands died."
Once more, Harry stopped, although this time, it was more to steady his own nerves then to watch the girls. Lana had gone completely still, her hand over her mouth as she tried to comprehend the horrors those man had done. Chloe was still furiously writing, although Harry could see her hand shaking slightly and noticed, that the young reporter steadily refused to meet his eyes.
Lois, meanwhile, had clenched her fists, and was staring at him. "Then what?"
Nodding, Harry continued. "The headmaster of Hogwarts is one of, if not the most influential figure in my world. He rallied his friends to fight back, and my parents joined him after leaving school. Two years later, they had actually managed to find Riddle thrice, and had foiled his plans, even though they could not overpower him.
As I said earlier, few people in our society actually believe in Divination. Unfortunately, Riddle was one of them. In the summer of '81, a turn-coat informed us that Riddle had heard a prophecy, that announced his defeat by a child born at the end of July, to parents who trice defied him.
I fit that description.
My parents went into hiding, but they were betrayed. Riddle came personally, and installed explosives around the whole house, after killing my dad. My mum could have gotten away, but not while carrying me. Instead, she used her own body to shield me from the blast."
Lana squeezed Harry's hands once again, causing the young man to shoot her a grateful smile while blinking the tears from his eyes.
"Arriving reinforcements had pushed Riddle back into the blast, and he was critically injured. Most people believed him dead. His followers were either captured or disbanded when he disappeared. I and my name became a beacon of hope. The "boy-who-lived", who survived when Voldemort himself tried to kill him."
Harry barked a short, bitter laugh.
"I was placed with my mother's sister, an outsider, hoping that nobody would find me there. It worked, but it was not a good time for me.
When I was fourteen, he came back, and immediately tried to kill me as a show of strength. I escaped. And escaped again a year later. And again, and again.
Regardless, his followers returned to him, and countless more flocked to his cause. Eventually, he attacked on a large scale, and we were overrun.
I got to him, but my friends were all killed in the battle, so I fled and left the rebuilding to the others. I could not bear to stand at their memorial and give an epilogue. And now I am here."
For long minutes, a heavy, oppressive silence lay in the room, before Lois' voice broke through.
"Why did nobody help? I know you lived isolated, but I am sure we would have helped."
"It was discussed." Harry admitted. "But in the end, the danger was considered to great. For once, Outsiders could not have navigated our world as well, and would have been an easier target. The death toll would have been high. Against Riddle's guerrilla warfare, simple numbers would have been largely useless, anyways.
More important, however, is that the Statue of Secrecy, that degrees our isolation, is our highest law. We had no wish to expose ourselves without knowing and controlling the ramifications, and we could not order troops in without briefing them on the situation. Exposure would have been certain."
Chloe skimmed her notes, clearly searching for something, but appearing confused.
"You said this was all secret. How come you could tell us?"
Harry grimaced, for a moment. "Admittedly, I'm stretching the law here, but I have not really told you anything. Due to our isolation, we have had certain breakthroughs in science that you have not had, just as you have things we do not.
There is not a single computer lab in Hogwarts, but our non-nuclear explosives are much more devastating. I am not allowed to talk about battle tactics, about specific members of our society, or even about the curriculum at Hogwarts – nothing, that might make you able to spot one of us."
Lana regarded Harry silently for a long while, appearing to work out a puzzle. "But why would you want to tell us, then?"
Standing, Harry turned away from his three female friends, starring at a photo of himself with Ron and Hermione at the shores of the Great Lake. "I used to have great friends, whom I could share everything with. I ran away, and I hoped to get a chance to start a new, better life. How can I ask you to trust me, if you do not know me. All I want is a normal life – and friends I can trust."
Three hands lightly touched his back in a silent show of support.
"You are here now. It's over, and we are not going anywhere." Lana commented quietly.
For a long while, neither of them moved, silently contemplating what the future might hold.