Doing a complete rewrite as well as make a more adult version I'll give links to when its done 3
Disclaimer: I don't own Rowlings stuff, no infringement of rights is meant, just a bored teenager with a lot of time on her hands...between tests vv
Warnings: (Eluded to) Rape, Torture, Lucius Malfoy
Chapter One
Harry scratched the back of his neck, stifling a yawn that rose in his throat. Things had been dull, extraordinarily dull over the summer, unnervingly so when it came to Voldermort, and nerves were not something Harry had in spades.
As he lay there in the backyard of the Dursley's, he was dimly aware of a loud crack sounding. He rolled over onto his front looking out into the front yard and onto the street, he couldn't see any cars or people and no reason for the sound. He wasn't about to go whipping his wand out, but he wasn't about to take a nap either, he wasn't that foolish. He sat himself up to watch the front yard, back to the house, while he thought to himself.
He didn't know why, but he felt somehow...betrayed. He wondered, why hadn't the old wizard done more? He wasn't sure, but he felt like he might of known, he had the power to stop it, but didn't. He again stopped his straying thoughts, scolding himself mentally. Dumbledore would always be there, helping him.
He stood up and off the grass, raising his arms to work the kinks out of his back. What he needed then, he decided, was a long walk, to help clear his head, maybe he'd take his wand just in case.
He went at a light from the side of the house, looking carefully around. Not a Dudley or Dursley in sight, grinning, he continued forward until a dreaded shrill voice squawked from the front door
'HARRY!' Aunt Petunia called, Harry resignedly turned back and walked to her
'Yes Aunt Petunia?' He said tiredly, stopping a few steps from her.
'Don't you dare take that tone with me!' She gestured for him to hurry, which he did, sort of, at least picking up his pace to a normal gate.
'Mrs. Figg just called, you're going with her to help her with any chores she needs done.' Petunia said with a crisp tone in her voice. She glared at him fiercly; promise that she would have a list of chores ready for him when he returned
Harry headed out the door, and saw Mrs. Figg walking towards him across the street, she waved, a smile on her f ace.
He crossed the street with a smile, offering his arm to her as they walked back to her house in companionable silence, he'd spent little time with her since he was 11 and he was looking forward to it, surprisingly.
'Oh, Harry, dear, what say we go for a walk? I haven't been out all day, and I'm feeling rather stiff.' Harry nodded, smile still plastered on his face.
'Its like you can read my mind, I have been wanting to go for a walk for a bit now.' The old squib chuckled.
They slowly walked towards a back alley Harry recognized as a short cut to a park he frequented. Mrs. Figg gave him a side glance.
'Harry, I must admit, I am rather surprised after all that... unpleasantness this year, that you weren't carted off to some sort of safe house, or to stay with Dumbledore himself.'
He gave her a less friendly smile, gesturing towards the Dursley's house.
'That is my safehouse, sitting right in the middle of a muggle suburbia, if it wasn't for the few wards around it, you couldn't spot it from any other house.' He grinned suddenly. 'Well, with the wards, at least none of Voldemorts nimb-witted cronies-' Mrs. Figg gave a slight twitch. 'Sorry, can get in.'
Mrs. Figg stopped short, forcing Harry to pull up beside her. 'Mrs. Figg?' The old woman's grip tightened incredibly on his upper arm. He stared up at her, something was definitely wrong here.
'Er, if mentioning You-Know-Who, bothers you this much-'
'Oh my dear, dear stupid boy, you are right, of course, none of the Dark Lord's 'cronies' would be able to get in, but you could get out.' Harry paled, pulling against her astonishing grip, and he stared, in shock, as her form changed, growing taller, with an unnerving grace, her hair uncurling, lengthening into silver blonde locks. He finally wrenched his arm free, but could only stare dumbly as the person before him became Lucius Malfoy.
Harry laughed.
Lucius Malfoy stood before him, a definite threat. You should be running! Atiny voice told him, he was laughing too hard to notice. Before him, wearing a confused and angry expression on his face was Lucius Malfoy...the issue was that wasn't all he was wearing.
When he had changed to his rightful body, he hadn't bothered to change the clothing, so he now stood in an olive green dress, covered with large pink flowers, small blue ones on the hems, He had on granny heels, white, with a matching over-sized purse. Harry's giggles stopped short as a wand stared him in the face.
'Uh...' He blinked, then looked up at the cold grey eyes. 'I think I better tell you something.' He said in a whisper, eyes wide with fright, but his lips twitched in the tiniest of smiles,. 'That shade really doesn't suit you.' With that he gave the man an almighty shove, and took off at a run to the far end of the street, whipping out his wand and glancing back.. He mumbled off a few awkward spells as a bright red light flashed passed him.
When he looked back, he saw that the dress had now become his normal long black robes, the purse was now his cane, complete with silver snake head. Harry couldn't tell if he still had on the heels.
Unfortunately for Harry, while watching Malfoy, he had failed to watch where he was going, so it came as a bit of a shock when he ran into something solid.
Let it be a lamp post, let it be a lamp post...He quietly prayed, looking up. Before him were three cloaked and hooded figures, all with the disturbing masks of Voldemorts followers. He barely had any time to register this as the one in front raised his wand and whispered, 'Stupefy.'
2 MONTHS LATER...
Dumbledore sat in his office, bent low over his desk, squinting to read the minute writing on his latest letter wanting to know where The Boy Who Lived was. In frustration, he crumpled it and tossed it into the fireplace, where it quietly burned away into nothingness. 'One down-' He paused, looking at the pile on his desk. '742 to go.' He glanced about, and quietly levitated the whole pile to the fire place. 'There, all done.' He said to no one in particular, though one of the pictures chuckled. With another wave of his wand, he suddenly had an array of strange objects before him.
He muttered and pondered to himself pushing the bizarre mix of objects into various piles to each side of his desk. 'We haven't tried this blood one though.' He muttered placing that on the other side. He gently fiddled with his beard, contemplating the young boy who had disappeared.
He looked up in time to see his flames suddenly turn brightly, and Madame Pomfreys face appeared in the flames.
'Albus! Rosmerta just sent me an owl! Its Harry, he's just been dumped out of her floo by someone, I need my floo opened to her!' The poor woman's head looked strained
Dumbledore stood and hurried over to one of his walls, pulling out his wand and gently tapping various stones and once again muttering to himself.
'Its open, I will head down to you immediately.'
When Dumbledore reached the infirmary, he could hear Rosmerta talking inside, sounding more than a little upset.
'Someone else was in the flames, I haven't the foggiest who, they dropped him on the floor and disappeared before I even knew what's what! Oh god Poppy is he going to be okay? He looks so poorly, is he going to make it Poppy-' Dumbledore watched from the door as Madame Pomfrey turned from the bed presumably holding Harry and firmly sat the woman down on the other side of the room.
Then she was all business.
She rushed back and forth, picking up this potion, casting that spell, muttering to herself, writing different bits of information down, making marks beside each, more potions... meanwhile Dumbledore had Rosmerta head to his office with the password and the knowledge tea would be waiting for her.
Neither of them noticed the voices in the hallway
'Oh Ron, would you please hurry up? Madame Pomfrey is probably going to bed soon, if we're caught out of bed like this...' Hermoine Granger's harsh whisper could clearly be heard coming towards them.
'Well it wasn't my fault! She was never like that before, Hedwig always was so, mellow.'
'She has been like that ever since...ever since Harry disappeared.' She said in a quieter voice, a sad note in it.
'Still.' Ron said quietly, seemingly out of habit.
Madame Pomfrey picked this point in the pairs conversation to walk over to Dumbledore, frowning, looking tired and frustrated.
'Well, as far as I can tell, his mind is still whole, at least as far as I can look without him actually being conscious, ' Her frown deepened. 'It appears though he has had the cruciatus cast upon him more times than I am willing to guess.'
In the moment of dark talk both forgot themselves and didn't notice the footsteps stop at the door.
'It seems that he was starved for weeks, given barely enough to survive on,' She paused as a shadow passed over her face. 'I-it seems that they beat him, with a whip, magical and non, and-' A flash of anger now.
'And there is internal bleeding, I stopped it, but the cause...' She looked strained her face losing more of its calm assuredness. Dumbledore gave her shoulder a squeeze, knowing the woman far too well to even bother with a hug.
'Mr. Potter is stronger than we will ever know Poppy dear.' He said quietly, glancing at the curtained off bed. 'We can only hope that he may recover, at least, physically.' Both could only guess what turmoil the boys mind would be in, and truly all they could do was guess.
It was then the old wizard heard a scrape, a hiss.
'Bugger.' Dumbledore said quietly, causing Poppy to start, Albus simply wasn't one to swear.
He let out a soft sigh. 'Come in, Mister Weasley, and Miss Granger, you must work on your spying techniques I'm afraid.'
The two students quietly finished opening the doors, glancing at the pair. Madame Pomfrey moved forward about to let on a full onslaught on why they should not have been there, listening to a patients report, when she looked at their faces, paler than was normal, she knew, they both were silent for a moment before,
'Please, Professor, you-you aren't talking about Harry are you?' Hermoine's voice was pleading, not wanting to believe what they had overheard.
Dumbledore nodded slowly. 'Unfortunately ,we were, he was returned to us, less than an hour ago.'
Madame Pomfrey noticed Ron gripping his bleeding hand, and rubbed her eyes. 'Come here Mr. Weasley.' She said curtly, gesturing to a bed three over from Harry's, eh obediently went and sat.
'Professor Dumbledore, where-?' He cut her off sharply.
'I am afraid I do not know Miss Granger, and even if I did, you should know I cannot give you that sort of information, you already know far too much.' His words were too sharp for her, and her features weakened slightly, he quickly continued on, in a softer tone. 'Just have some relief, now, he is alive and safe, and you, both of you, of course, will know the moment he awakens.'
She gave him a weak smile, looking towards Ron, then Harry's covered bed.
There was a sudden noise, like a whimper, but with volumes of pain behind it, Madame Pomfrey hurried to Harry's bed, coming back a moment later, frowning. 'It wasn't-' A muffled wail cut her off. Dumbledore turned towards another bed, this one completely surrounded by thick black curtains. Madame Pomfrey cringed.
'That potion should have worked for at least another day, his body is building up a resistance.' She murmured, moving to the bed, hurrying in a slit in the curtains, but not before Hermoine clearly saw Professor Snape laying in the bed.
TBC
Oooo! Who could the mystery person in the flames be? Is it Harry's saviour? Or is it some diabolical plot set out by the Death Eaters?
So, do you recall the old version, is this one preferred? Yay nay? 3 you all ^^