AN: I may not be back fully, but I am back for the time being. This will take some time and I do apologize for leaving this where it was for so long. I was just stuck with where I was at the moment that I couldn't think of a way forward. There are some changes, grammar mistakes are now taken care of and hopefully it sounds way better than what it used to be. I do Hope you enjoy and keep looking forward. You never know what's going to come around the corner...
Harry woke with a splitting headache and no memory of the night before. He was faintly aware of a rapturous knock at his cupboard door. The knocking of course made even more annoying because of the bony hands doing said knocking. Harry winced lately at the memory of his end and what had happened the last time he was late for making breakfast.
"Wake up you ungrateful little boy! You have breakfast to make!" she screamed. Harry was eight at the time. as he walked out of the cupboard he was slapped upside the head and reprimanded a little more but he never cried, crying only made it worse.
A year later and he still had never cried in their company. As he sat up Harry brought his hand to his forehead. The pounding in his head was excruciating. Once his hand made contact a flash of last night pushed itself to the front of his mind.
He had been making dinner when his aunt had received the call from his teacher. He froze as soon as I put in your head said his teacher's name. She scowled at him as soon as she saw him freeze, with nothing else to do and knowing her scowl so well he continued to work on dinner. Aunt Petunia when developed the call Anna well-toned Manner and dust discovered what he'd done that day at school.
Once the phone was back on the receiver her tone was more scolding. " What did we tell you about doing strange things at school?" She almost shouted. she was glaring at Harry with a look of pure hatred. That was when Vernon Dursley walked into the house, home from what appeared to be a great day at work.
Harry was scared then. and petunias beatings was bearable, but Uncle Vernon's... Harry braced himself for what was about to come. He looked on in horror as he saw his uncle's face transform at first from joy to confusion at the look on Aunt Petunia's face. The look of confusion only lasted about a second as rage took form. Uncle Vernon didn't usually need a reason to be angry at Harry, he only needed to know that the "freak," as he called him, had done something freakish.
Aunt Petunia told him anyway, "This little freak of a boy turned his teacher's hair blue!" This of course only served to make Uncle Vernon madder. His previously red face turned purple as he was so angry he couldn't breathe. However that was over in only a matter of seconds as he bellowed, "HOW DARE YOU!? HOW DARE YOU DO YOUR FREAKISH THINGS!? HOW DARE YOU EMBARRASS THIS HOUSE AND OUR FAMILY YOU LITTLE FREAK!?" Harry braced further as his uncle's hand was then pulled back, a fist curled from his meaty hand.
And then he struck. Over and over again Uncle Vernon struck. Harry couldn't fight back, he couldn't do anything against his great fat uncle. But he knew that absorbing the momentum by falling away from the blows helped, and that was all he could do. If he shied away and tried to escape only made the beating worse. So he took it and waited… and waited. Waiting was all that he could do, but it appeared that this was one of the few times where Uncle Vernon had blacked out from the rage.
It just kept coming. Unrelenting. Unforgiving. He endured it for ten minutes before the pain made him black out…
And thus, here he was on a school day being woken up by his aunt. He knew it was a lot later than when he was usually woken because that was the only rest he would get after a beating from his uncle. They always kept him home for a few days depending on how bad the beatings were.
"Hurry up and make lunch," his aunt told him. Of course it's lunchtime, they only let him sleep until lunch. With his headache still thrumming with the rhythm of his heartbeat he stood up shakily from his bed. He padded over to his little table, sloppily searching for his glasses. Finding them, he slid them on and looked at the small little hand mirror they permitted him to keep. His face was blotchy and bruised almost everywhere. There wasn't but maybe a centimeter of clear skin near his scar.
He worked his jaw a little and was relieved that there was only slight pain. He felt the bumps on his face and winced reflexively from the sting in his arm muscles. Looking down over his torso to discover he still had on last night's clothing, he slowly pulled off his shirt, his whole body shaking in anticipation and fear of what he may find. Wincing at every slight sting, he progressed and once it was finally off he looked back at the mirror hung on the wall.
What he saw horrified him. He's been at the receiving ends of many beatings, but none with this level of damage. How he got away without a broken bone mystified him. There were splotches of blues and purples all over his torso. Then he became aware of the shallow breathes he was taking. That wasn't a good sign…
He brought his hand up to the bottom of his rib cage. It was floating away from his ribs while he was mentally preparing himself for the pain that might come. And then he pressed down, with a sharp intake of breath and mental screaming he knew that the rib was broken. He'd have to tell them…
"A-aunt Petunia. My ribs are broken," he said, his voice barely over that of a whisper. He knew that she had heard because of the huff she gave before she replied. "Serves you right for what you did. Now hurry up and make some lunch for the both of us."
It figures that she wouldn't care… She never has. He wished that for once, when he opened the door, it would take him anywhere else but into the hallway. Reaching towards the door knob he hesitated as a bright blue light entered the room. Harry turned and saw a crouching figure take form. Confusion quickly overcoming his senses, Harry dropped his hand from reaching toward his cupboard door and asked softly, "Who are you?"
The person froze, then, after a brief moment, turned gradually. Upon seeing the man's face, for it was a man, Harry saw something familiar. The man had short, unkempt, black hair and fierce green eyes behind circular glasses. Looking over his facial features again harry saw something else, something he couldn't believe. There, upon his brow and very faded, was a perfect replica of his own scar.
"Oh no. What have they done to you?" the man asked. Harry looked down feeling skittish about letting someone see him after a beating, a rule he was told to never break lest he see terrible consequences. But before he could react, the man reached forward and grabbed Harry's hand. The brilliant blue light engulfed them and Harry felt lighter than air before he lost his vision completely and gained the sensation of flight.
It took mere moments until Harry's sight returned to him, and what he saw was, quite simply, amazing. From what he could remember of previous visits, he was in a hospital, except, this was unlike any hospital he's ever been in. He couldn't think of any reason why there would be a row of six fireplaces big enough to fit his Uncle Vernon in, or why the paintings moved as if they were alive.
He was startled from his musings when the man next to him called out, "Can I get a healer!?" His voice was loud and strained. Then Harry noticed the people. They stood frozen, unsure of what they heard or saw only moments ago. In the next second a flurry of activity was seen. What appeared to be a nurse called out for a "Healer Nelson."
Harry was turned toward another man with short greying hair and a pleasant smile.
"Hey there, what's your name?" the man, who could only be "Healer" Nelson, asked.
"H-harry Potter," he replied, so soft that it was almost inaudible.
Concern quickly flashed across the man's face as he turned barking out, "Clear the way!" Then he looked to the man who had brought Harry here and gave a quick thanks before gently levitating Harry and bringing him towards a private room. Harry, feeling weightless once again could only wince at the slight pain before a bright red light hit him and he knew no more.
It was a nice and quiet day for one Healer Nelson as his part of the hospital was the child trauma center. Though breaks and fractures were a common occurrence for kids, this was a slow day for them. Jerking up to save his head from falling, he begrudgingly got up to go to the break room. Walking should help keep him awake.
He just barely walked through his office door before seeing a bright blue light. Awe struck, he could only watch as, from two orbs of pulsing blue light, two figures appeared in the center of the waiting room. One he could tell was in his late teens, probably just left Hogwarts. The other was just a kid, but the kid had bruises, lots and lots of bruises.
"Can I get a Healer!?" the older one called out. It was a few more seconds before anyone else moved though. A nurse turned around scanning the frozen crowd until she saw Healer Nelson. "Healer Nelson," she called out, spurring him into action while also scaring the crowd a little bit.
Walking quickly at the new comers, Healer Nelson looked the kid over. He was skinny, too skinny to be healthy. A mop of unruly black hair with bangs that came down to just above his head. Behind a pair of broken wire frame glasses were brilliant emerald eyes. Putting on a smile he knelt down in front of the boy and caught his attention. "Hey there. What's your name?" he asked.
"H-Harry Potter," came the quiet reply. 'Harry Potter?' he thought. 'Surely not the Harry Potter?' Flicking his eyes to Harry's forehead he saw it. There, hiding under the fringe of his banges was that famous scar. Concern now even more present in his mind he called out, "Clear the way!"
Looking to the young man who brought the boy in, he said a quick thank you before explaining what he was about to do to the young Mr. Potter. The poor boy could only nod once before Healer Nelson used a nonverbal levitation spell, lifting Harry up off the floor. Noticing the small wince he gave, a nurse had stunned him so that he would feel the pain no more.
Floating him about three feet off the ground he quickly brought him to an empty private room. Casting a few diagnostic spells he discovered the extent of the damage. It wasn't something he liked all that much. Turning toward the door, he could see behind the blurred glass that quite a few people had gathered. Irritated, he swung the door open and yelled, "We have a Code Orange!"
Harry slowly woke to find himself able to see clearly and bound to a bed with some form of invisible bonds. Turning his head he saw a table by his bed with his glasses and a spare bit of parchment. Confusion gripped him until he remembered where he was. 'But surely I shouldn't be able to see, could I?' he silently mused.
The door opening successfully pulling him out of his thoughts. "Ah, you're awake. Good to see that," the doctor said. Or at least Harry assumed she was a doctor. She was, from Harry's perspective, tall and had long, wavy black hair reaching, from what he could see, all the way down to the middle of her back. She had a pair of pink plastic framed glasses resting in front of brilliant brown eyes. She was wearing a white set of robes, which Harry found odd as all of the hospital shows he had stolen a glance at had doctors wearing lab coats.
"My name is Susan Cook. I'm going to be your Healer for your stay here at St. Mungos. How are you feeling Harry?" It was a simple question, but one Harry was unsure of how to answer. On one side he couldn't feel anything wrong with him. On the other he couldn't feel much of himself to properly tell.
"I-" Harry stopped as he discovered his voice was extremely scratchy and it hurt to talk.
"Looks like you need a soothing potion, give me one moment." And before Harry could even register that she had said potion, she was out of the door and then back in. "Now, these can be right foul tasting so it's best to get it down all in one go," she said before tipping the flask of green liquid into his mouth.
Following her advice, Harry downed the concoction just to almost lose it back the way it came. Mastering his stomach and coughing at the same time, he looked back up to the doctor. Once there, she tipped another potion into his mouth. This one, though still foul tasting, had spread a tingling sensation to his chest, the back of his skull, the lower portion of his left arm, upper portion of his right arm, and down both legs. He grimaced at the taste and feeling of this potion.
Susan appeared to be struggling with something, but Harry couldn't place what it was until she couldn't hold her laughter any more. She snorted and then straightened, showing a small smile at him and then apologizing. After the apology she asked if he had ever taken a potion before, explaining that most all healing potions tasted horrible and that as old as he was, he should have been used to them by now. Harry answered in the negative, causing her to frown. Fearing the worst, Harry quickly explained that he lived with his aunt and uncle and that they haven't taken him to this hospital before.
"Susan, why can't I move?" he asked with concern in his voice.
"Oh, that. We had to bind you to the bed using some mild stasis spells. We had to remove a few of your bones because they were too damaged beyond repair. That's what the second potion was for, Skele-grow. You were pretty banged up when you got here too. Do you want talk about that?"
'Spells? Removed my bones? Skele-grow? What is this crazy lady talking about?' He must have shown his confusion and doubt on his face for she frowned again before asking, "You don't know about magic, do you?" At the shake of his head she continued. "St. Mungos is a magical hospital where we work on both magical and mundane ailments and conflictions with the human body. We use magic and potions to aid our healers in helping the sick and the broken. Would you like to see a spell?"
Harry could only nod in anticipation for what she was about to do. Of all the things she could do in his imagination about magic however, he never thought she would flick a stick in the direction of the bed side lamp and have it change into a lizard. Blinking quickly with his mouth open, Harry could only stare at the lizard as Susan flicked her wand at it again and it changed back to the lamp it used to be.
"Magic exists in all places around the world, in small cities and large ones. People in civilization and even some who remove themselves from it. Magic is everywhere, from children and adults to creatures of all shapes and sizes.. Harry, did you know that you are a wizard?"
The blank stare and open mouth was apparently all she needed to know in order to find out the truth. She started asking him questions about his home life and what it was like living with his relatives. At first, Harry would only respond with very little information, but after a while she seemed to grow tired of getting little to nothing and he couldn't stand to see her frown anymore. "I lived in a cupboard under the stairs," he blurted out. Quickly closing his mouth he looked down at the sheets covering his body.
"Harry," she called quietly. "Harry look at me please." Slowly raising his eyes, she asked, "Did your relatives do this to you?" Frowning slightly, Harry nodded. "Harry, we found burn marks on your back, did they do that too?" Harry nodded again, remembering the very day that his Uncle burned it.
"Come here boy!" Uncle Vernon screamed. His eyes red and bloodshot while his pudgy face was a violent shade of purple. Harry was six then. Uncle Vernon had just heard him talk aloud about his dreams of a green flash of light and a woman screaming."We'll get the Devil out of you yet boy!" he exclaimed before ripping Harry's shirt off and pushing him down, face first, onto the couch.
Harry could hear the sound of metal scraping against metal and saw in the mirror from the kitchen, Uncle Vernon pulling something from the fireplace. He saw the cross before he shut his eyes tightly, hoping upon all he could that someone would walk into the house and save him. That's when the burning started. Harry screamed out in agony until his voice could no longer go on. His mouth open in silence, tears streaming down his face for what felt like hours, the burning sensation continued until, for a fleeting moment, it lessened.
Opening his eyes once more was a mistake. Uncle Vernon had pulled one more thing from near the fire. A white hot blade. Drawing the first cut made Harry close his eyes once more and could no longer remain conscious under the onslaught of pain befalling him.
"Harry... Harry" Susan said, removing him from the flashback. "I lost you there for a moment. What happened?" She queried with a concerned look. Pushing down his fear of his aunt and uncle's rules and what would happen should they find out he broke them, Harry began to tell the story of his upbringing without the omissions and falseness of the last time. Though he didn't look up for the whole retelling, he knew that he had Susan's full attention. He told her of how Dudley was spoiled and him neglected. He told of how Dudley and Uncle Vernon would hit him. He told of the times where his aunt and uncle had forgone proper medical aid for most of his broken bones and how they told lies of how he got the injuries that they had to go to the doctor's for.
Once finished Harry let out a breath and reveled in what felt like a huge weight lifting off of his shoulders. Finally looking up, he could tell that Susan was livid, the look she had on her face truly terrifying. She straightened and fixed Harry with a determined stare, "We'll properly punish your relatives for their clearly misbegotten ways and pure failing of raising you. You have my word on that Mr. Potter." And with that she left, closing the door on her way out.
In the time left of the day, or night as he truly didn't know, Harry pondered the events that led him to where he was now, talking of magic and potions to regrow bones. He was truly at a loss for words in this development. However, the more he thought about it, the more some things made sense. Him regrowing his hair after Aunt Petunia cut it down to an inch long. The time he landed on the roof of his school as he was trying to get away from Dudley and his friends. Though it didn't explain the random strangers who all knew him.
It wasn't until a few hours of introspection that he was checked on once more. This time it was a man, though Harry couldn't tell how old. He had short, bright blond hair and blue eyes. He was tall, but shorter than Susan by what Harry could only guess as a few inches. Smiling the man said, "Hey, I'm Kendall Craig . I'm a nurse for Ms. Cook. It looks like you're up for a dreamless sleep potion." That was all he said before holding up a bottle of light purple liquid.
Confusion overtook Harry's thoughts at first before deciding not to question it any further and allow Kendall to feed him the potion, the last thought going through his mind was that of this wondrous world he had entered.
At that time Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore found himself at the end of a very difficult day. Amelia Bones was going to have his head for what was discovered about Harry. Albus had assumed that Harry's relatives would take care of him, though not as the same as their own son. He surely didn't expect them to go this far in anything. Burning a cross and circles with stars into the boy was definitely something he didn't expect them to do, let alone not taking him to get medical help for all the things that had happened there.
Though Albus wished to stay at Hogwarts, there were pressing matters to attain to the next day. He would have to leave after breakfast the next day in order to assure that Professor McGonagall would take up her role as Deputy Headmistress for possibly the next week at most. The most vexing part of this problem was where Harry himself was involved. He wasn't sure of what Harry's feelings about this were. In other cases of child abuse and neglect there were quite a range of different after-effects for this sort of thing, a certain proneness to violence and rage to one of the most caring people in the world.
Though perhaps a little perverse about the whole ordeal, Albus found himself hoping for the latter of the two. Hindsight was certainly viable as he found himself remembering McGonagall's protests about the couple the very night he left Harry there. Though that was for another time, right now was the time for sleep and sleep he shall.
Sirius awoke with a start in the little cell he called home for the past eight years. Using a small bit of rock he found within the first week he carved another slot into the wall to signify the three thousandth one hundred and fifth day since the death of his fellow Marauder and his wife, James and Lily Potter. Putting the rock down he started his daily routine by relieving himself in the cell facilities and eating the breakfast that his guard had brought to him.
It was in the middle of his breakfast that the Minister himself had come to visit. Since the start of his term as minister, Fudge has been visiting the prison every few weeks. However Sirius could tell that something was wrong. Fudge had only been there just three days ago.
"Ah, Sirius. I've been meaning to talk to you." 'It's not like I don't have any time,' Sirius thought. "Someone tried to finish your work in killing off the Potters. I thought I'd let you know that they failed just like you did."
Though the taunting wasn't new, the news was. Fudge had been trying for months to get a rise out of him with his taunting and throwing the death of his friends in Sirius' face. Sirius was smart enough to not let it get to him thus far, except for today. The Minister may have succeeded in getting his rise, but he'll be in for a rude awakening to the way it was delivered.
"Who hurt my godson?!" he yelled out. "Who dared to lay a hand on the last link to James that I have?!"
Fudge jumped back as Sirius launched himself to the bars, the look of pure loathing in his eyes. Shaken, Fudge made a hasty retreat as Sirius stewed on this new information about his godson. 'Who would dare hurt Harry? Surely not the Dursleys? Unless-no. No, he couldn't be living there, Lily told me that she would never allow them to take Harry in if they kicked the bucket.' That's when a scrap of parchment landed into his cell from out of thin air.
Knowing that the guards would never believe him about some invisible person in the prison he simply read the message on it, "Sirius, I've made arrangements for Snuffles to become the resident dog at a great friend of mine's house. I've also managed for you to receive a trial. Meet me next to the biggest rock on the south side of the island, away from the dock."
Thinking on it for mere moments was all it took for Sirius to make a decision, after all it was trust this person and die because of it, or die in the prison. The former was the best solution because it had the possibility of getting away from this cursed place and a trial to boot. And whoever this person was, he knew about Snuffles. Sirius had never told anyone what his name for his dog was besides the Marauders.
Transforming, Sirius took the paper into his mouth and squeezed through the bars of his cell. It was a good thing that the prison food here didn't accomplish what food was supposed to. Being situated on one of the floors closest to the ground helped as well. While the main passageways could be seen to have Dementors at every major intersection, they never paid any attention to Sirius' dog form. Guards for that matter were only stationed at the stairs unless it was meal time which had just ended.
This was the hard part. Two guards were stationed at this floor's entrance and were lounging around. Sirius doubted that they wouldn't notice a dog almost as big as a grim make its way toward the stairs. He would need to be quick and crafty to make his way out of this one.
Perhaps it was luck, or the sheer planning on whomever this person was that it was the time for the changing of the guards. Seeing the chance where all four people were turned away from the stairway he leaped, deftly landing in front of the stairs and making his way down. Though each floor's entrance was accessible to the stairway, they never actually entered the floor themselves. This was made so if any prisoners decided to do something, like that would happen, each floor would be able to shut down properly locking them off from the rest of the prison and it could function as normal.
This aided Sirius as he could pass floors without abandon until he made it to the ground floor, needing to only pass the break room and security office before he was outside. Both were easy as the break room was a place hardly anyone looked out of unless they were leaving and the security office only had a window above waist height.
Once outside Sirius skirted the building finding his way to the biggest rock he could find though before he made it halfway to the one he saw, a blue aura overcame him and whisked him away.
Harry woke to the absence of stasis spells that Susan had told him were there. Blinking the sleep from his eyes Harry sat up from the bed and looked around the hospital room. Nothing changed save for the fact that he could now move around with much less pain, pain in truth he had not known that was there. Then Harry remembered the parchment that was left on the bedside table the night before.
Walking over to the table Harry picked up the parchment and began to read. Or at least he would have if he could. He picked up his glasses and studied them for a moment before putting them on and finally reading the parchment.
"Harry, though you have probably guessed by now you still need your glasses to read. I apologize for not doing any better to fix your eyesight, but the dear friend that had discovered the spell could only do so much. You will no longer depend on them to see during the normal things you do, but you will still require them for reading and playing Quidditch. I have many names from where I come from, but you will most likely find someone who knows me as the Lone Traveler. My actual given name is Harry James Potter.
"Yes, I am you, though I am not you. You see, due to terrible things happening in my timeline I was forced to try and go back in time to fix everything. I failed in that task and was made to wander the 'universes' as one so eloquently put it a few worlds back. Due to that failure I move from universe to universe helping a small bit to move the balance of the world to the light, aiding those I can before I move onto the next world. Please do not tell anyone of my true identity as it will cause you more grief than you already have. I have place a spell on this paper so as only you can read it.
"As you have no doubt heard about magic before reading this due to the fact that most of you was held down magically for the better part of the day if not all day, you are in fact a wizard. A very powerful wizard if I do say so myself. However, you have a past that you do not know about.
"Before you were born there was a prophecy made about you stating that you would be the one to see the end of the one who calls him the Dark Lord Voldemort (though I always called him the Dork Lord). A few months after your first birthday he came after you and your family. Unfortunately he succeeded in bringing down your parents and I must express my sorrow for that. But your mother did something very special, she threw herself in front of Voldemort protecting you. She was very brave for going up against such a feared wizard as him.
"What she did by shielding you, though doing so knowingly or not, invoked a magic so powerful that it rebounded a curse directed at you. This curse is known as the 'Killing Curse' for that is what it does, and until that night no one was known to have survived it. You will be famous in the Wizarding World for that very reason and a lot of people will want to get close to you because of that fame.
"My recommendation if I am gone before I can do it myself is to set up an interview with a magazine called the Quibbler and remind the public that due to the events that saved you from the 'Killing Curse' you also lost your parents that night. It will help keep most of the public from hounding you. You'll want to stay away from the Daily Prophet, the wizarding newspaper as much as possible in terms of interviews. And no matter what, do not agree to an interview with a woman known as Rita Skeeter.
"Now, I have taken the liberties to set you up to live with a great friend of ours and I hope that you can become her friend. Her name is Hermione Granger and is in dire need of one. She is a witch and her parents, though non-magical (the word muggle describes them in the wizarding world), know this and about the world she is a part of. She is much like you are at school, an outcast, though not due to bullies keeping potential friends away. You see, she is bullied for being an outstanding and brilliant student.
"She also recently acquired a dog named Snuffles, he will play an important role in helping you and her become more confident with yourselves and in making friends. Snuffles is different from most dogs as he is magical in nature, so don't be too surprised if you see something interesting when you meet him. Because of his magical upbringing he is very intelligent for a dog and as such, you will be a surprise for him.
"Now, onto finances. You do have money, a significant amount of money. A trust vault at the Wizarding Bank of Gringotts holds the money you can touch, though I would advise using that for school tuition and clothing (I know that your cousin's clothes don't fit you). I would also advise against letting Hermione's mother, Emma Granger, from taking you shopping. Danial, Hermione's father, would be a better choice.
"I leave you with one last piece of knowledge. A boy named Ronald Weasley will approach you one day. Allow him to befriend you. He will be in awe for the first few moments upon meeting you, but he is a true friend. One which, if a successful friendship is made, will never leave your side and will always fight beside you.
"With best wishes, The Lone Traveler"