Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no claims to ownership.
Warning: Swearing. That's about it.
UNDER REVISION
Harry cried out as he was knocked to the ground; in an effort to run away from the dementors, Dudley had slammed into him.
"Shit," Harry spat out. "Wand? Where's my wand? Accio wand!"
He suppressed a sigh of relief when he felt his wand connect with his hand. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on a happy thought. The twins' first accidental magic… Mum reading us to sleep… Catching the Snitch for the first time…
The last memory ended up being the one that worked as he recalled the adrenaline and glee at beating his father, who had been beaming with pride. Drawing on that old warmth, Harry opened his eyes.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
A silvery form in the shape of a stag burst out of his wand and eagerly hunted down the dementors. The stag reached Dudley just in time to stop the dementor from giving him the kiss. Lowering its head, the stag rammed into the dementor and threw it into the air. Even as the dementor fled, the stag pursued it down the street.
Harry bent over Dudley as the stag returned to him.
"Thanks, Dad," Harry murmured.
The stag nuzzled him before disappearing into mist.
Harry cast a cheering charm on Dudley, who was still curled up shivering on the ground. The charm should reduce the effects on the great useless lump of weight until Harry could get him some chocolate. The bar that Harry had in his pocket was for himself.
Finally Harry got Dudley to sit up.
"What happened?" whispered Dudley.
"A dementor attack," Harry said grimly. "You couldn't see them because you're a Muggle, but they're… monsters, I suppose you could call them, which guard the wizarding prison. They suck all of the happiness out of you and leave you a husk."
Dudley's eyes widened in fear. "They're your sort?"
"I'm a wizard, not a soul-sucking demon," Harry snapped.
This only made Dudley shiver even more. Harry vaguely wondered what bad memories Dudley had seen. Perhaps it had been of him helping abuse his own, much smaller cousin…
Hearing footsteps running toward them, Harry spun around, still crouched but with his wand raised. When he saw an elderly woman, strands of gray hair escaping from her net and her eyes wild, his lips began to form a spell.
"Wait!" she cried, holding her handbag in front of her face as if it could protect her. "It's me, you stupid boy! Your neighbor, Mrs. Figg!"
Harry thought insulting him wasn't a good way to endear herself to him.
"Why should I trust you?" he said suspiciously.
She peered over her bag at him. "Dumbledore sent me. Oh, I'm going to kill Mundungus Fletcher! He was supposed to be protecting you, but no! He had to check on that batch of cauldrons…"
The woman continued to rant. Harry watched her, waiting for her to draw a wand, but she made no such move.
"You're a Squib," he concluded, his lip curling. "How's a Squib supposed to protect me?"
Mrs. Figg huffed. "That's exactly my point. I'm going to kill him!"
Harry listened with only half an ear as he surveyed the area. The man who was following me? I wouldn't trust him to return a quill, much less to protect me.
Suddenly she stooped down, and Harry automatically began to prepare another spell before he realized she was only trying to pick up Dudley. He watched her attempts with a great deal of interest. Finally she gave up and kicked one of Dudley's tree trunk legs.
"Get up, you useless lump!"
Dudley didn't even move. Sighing, Harry stowed his wand and pulled on Dudley's arm. Harry strained against Dudley's weight but managed to get him to his feet.
"There. Can you walk?"
Dudley's teeth chattered as he nodded. His small eyes were roving all over the place, looking for something he could not see.
"Lead the way, Mrs. Figg," Harry said, keeping a hand out in case Dudley suddenly collapsed. With his other hand he drew his wand again. Everything about this situation was suspicious.
"He's much better than I expected," she noted. "What did you do to him?"
"Dudley's a naturally happy person," Harry replied. "The dementors were scared of him."
Well, if it were Daisy, it'd be true.
Mrs. Figg trotted ahead of them, peering anxiously around the corner. Dudley dutifully followed Harry, oddly subdued.
"Keep your wand out," Mrs. Figg ordered. "Never mind the Statute of Secrecy now, there's going to be hell to pay anyway, we might as well be hanged for a dragon as an egg. Talk about the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery... This was exactly what Dumbledore was afraid of-what's that at the end of the street? Oh, it's just Mr. Prentice..."
Harry's brows furrowed. "Dudley and I live together, so he already knows about us. He was the only Muggle around to see me use magic, and anyway, it was in self-defense."
"The Ministry wouldn't care about that," she said, wringing her hands. "When Dumbledore hears about this – how could Mundungus have left, he was supposed to be on duty until midnight – where is he? How am I going to tell Dumbledore what's happened? I can't Apparate –"
Harry opened his mouth to ask if she was connected to the Floo System just as there was a loud crack. Dudley shrieked and Harry had to grab onto him to keep him from falling. Harry raised his wand threateningly at the squat man in front of them; his nose wrinkled in disgust, and even Dudley gagged.
The man emitted a strong smell of drink mingled with stale tobacco. He stared at them with bloodshot, baggy eyes that gave him the doleful look of a basset hound. In his hands he held an Invisibility Cloak, which Harry knew was a cheaper knock-off of his own.
"'S' up, Figgy?' the man said. "What 'appened to staying undercover?"
"I'll give you undercover!" Mrs. Figg snarled. "Dementors, you useless, skiving sneak thief! Here in Little Whinging, you worthless pile of bat droppings, here! Dementors attacking the boy on your watch!"
"Blimey," the man said incredulously. "Blimey, I…"
Harry guessed this was Mundungus Fletcher. He could see why Mrs. Figg wasn't impressed by the man. Dumbledore could find much better riffraff than this to be a conman for the Order.
The adults continued to fight, with Mrs. Figg even swinging her heavy bag at Mundungus. At long last, Mundungus ceased cowering and vanished with another loud crack. Mrs. Figg walked Harry and Dudley the rest of the way to Number Four, Privet Drive without offering up any more meaningful information. Harry scowled after her retreating form before following Dudley into the house.
"Diddy!" Petunia cried. "About time too, I was getting quite – quite – Diddy, what's the matter?"
"I'm fine, Mum," he mumbled as she helped him to a chair in the kitchen. "Harry…"
"The boy?" Vernon roared, who had just entered from the living room. "What did he do to you?"
"Saved his life," Harry said bluntly. "Get him some chocolate and he should be okay."
Vernon snarled. "You think this is funny, boy? What did you do to my son?"
"Dad," Dudley said weakly. "Really, Harry saved me. There… There were these things… What did you call 'em, Harry?"
Before Harry could answer, an owl swooped in through the open window and dropped a letter in front of Harry. He ignored Vernon's shouts about more owls and read the contents. His derisive laugh stopped Vernon short.
Wow, I didn't know the Ministry was this stupid. Mum would tear them apart.
Harry tossed the letter into the rubbish bin. His infraction wasn't bad enough to qualify him for expulsion.
"In answer to your question, Dudley," he said, "those were dementors."
"What's this codswallop?" demanded Vernon.
"De-men-tors," Harry repeated slowly. "They guard our prison."
"You freaks have your own prison?"
"Azkaban," whispered Petunia.
The kitchen was silent after she spoke. Petunia covered her mouth as if she had uttered a bad word while her husband gaped at her.
Harry's brows rose before he remembered. Her sister was a witch. Of course she knows some things.
Then another owl arrived with a message. This one was from Arthur Weasley, instructing Harry to remain inside and not to surrender his wand to the Ministry. He folded the letter and looked back at Petunia.
"Don't worry, Snape will get his comeuppance," he told her. "What he's done to my family and others can never be forgiven."
Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. Vernon looked between her and Harry, his mustache twitching with uncertainty.
More owls came. One was from the Ministry; apparently Dumbledore had gotten them to change their minds, and instead he would have a disciplinary hearing. The other wasn't signed, but again told Harry not to leave the house.
After that, he explained to Petunia and Vernon everything that had happened. Petunia seemed grateful that Harry had saved Dudley's soul, for when she made Dudley a cup of hot chocolate, she offered one to Harry, too. He took it silently, unsure of what to do in response.
"So these dementoids were after you?" Vernon grunted.
Harry met his eyes. "Probably. Voldemort is back, and he doesn't give a damn about killing some Muggles to get to me."
Vernon's face turned purple, but Petunia cut him off before he could speak.
"Back?" she breathed.
Harry shifted under her gaze and nodded. She sank into the chair beside Dudley, her pale eyes wide and fearful, but when she spoke her voice didn't tremble as Harry expected.
"He'll suffer, too," she said, resolute rather than questioning.
"Definitely," agreed Harry. "We'll get them all."
~FoD~
Despite Vernon's protests, Petunia insisted that Harry stay. She had received a Howler that spoke in a rather forbidding voice which Harry knew belonged to Dumbledore. The man's meddling wasn't really needed at that point, but at least now Harry knew for certain that the Order would be arriving for him in only a few days.
Readily obeying Vernon's order to go upstairs, Harry shut himself into the bathroom. He leaned close to the mirror, trying to see the lump beneath his messy black hair from where Dudley had hit him. It still throbbed, but since he was in a Muggle house, he couldn't do anything but take a few pills for the pain.
A knock on the door startled him.
"Harry?" Dudley called. "I, uh, just… Thank you. Goodnight."
Harry dropped his hand and stared at his reflection. Crap. Now I feel bad for not giving him the chocolate.
The guilt was easily fixable, though. He wrenched the door open.
"Wait, Dudley."
Dudley turned back to look at him, seeming just as uncomfortable as Harry.
"Here." Harry tossed him the candy bar, and Dudley fumbled to catch it. "Wizarding chocolate is better. Go ahead and eat it."
Dudley looked down at the bar suspiciously. "Will it give me a tail or something?"
"What? No," Harry said, surprised. "I promise. And… Thanks. For telling the truth."
They continued to stare at each other.
"Right." Harry cleared his throat and shuffled toward his bedroom. "G'night, Dudley."
"Night," Dudley mumbled after a long moment.
Entering his room, Harry tossed his walnut wand onto the nightstand and threw himself down on the bed. After such an exhausting day, he fell asleep almost immediately. He was only woken briefly by a snowy white owl, which looked at him oddly before hopping toward its cage.
~FoD~
"Good boy… Good boy… Whoa!"
Harry swiftly retracted his hand as the owl nipped at his fingers.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know you're a girl. You looked like a boy, okay?"
The owl clicked her beak and glared at him with amber eyes.
Feeling oddly chastised, Harry continued looking around the room. It was rather small and sparse, and he didn't know what to think about the cat-flap on the bedroom door. From the state of the room, he would call it a cell; there were even bars on the window. Harry was almost surprised there wasn't a toilet in the corner.
He inspected a childish drawing taped to the door of the wardrobe and glanced at the owl again. "Hedwig. Is that your name?"
She remained silent, but Harry thought her gaze wasn't quite so reproving now.
For the past three days Harry had been trying to learn as much as he could about the person for whom he had taken over. The Dursley family had mostly left him alone except for meal times, in which Vernon would glare at Harry and mutter not so quietly under his breath; Petunia avoided looking at Harry; and Dudley would grunt in acknowledgement of Harry before shoveling more food into his mouth. No more letters had arrived since the day of the attack, and Harry was anxiously waiting for the announcement that he could flee this tension.
He had just discovered the loose floorboard beneath the bed when someone rapped on his door, causing Harry to startle and crack his head on the underside of the bed. Hastily he covered the hiding place before Vernon entered.
"What are you doing under there?" demanded Vernon.
"I dropped my quill," Harry said, crawling out.
Vernon sniffed. "I don't understand why you lot use those things. Pens work much better."
Unable to debate this, Harry shrugged.
"Anyway, we're going out," Vernon announced.
Harry took in the walrus' suit. Nope, not suspicious at all. I'm put under house arrest and they're invited out to an event. I guess this is my warning that the Order is coming.
"Okay," he said. "Have fun."
Vernon's brow wrinkled as if he couldn't believe that Harry wasn't arguing. After another moment, he left, closing and locking the door behind him. Then Harry heard the family trooping outside to the car, Dudley asking his father why Harry wasn't coming and Vernon grunting out, "He wasn't invited," before the car doors slammed and they drove away.
While Harry waited for the Order to arrive, he checked that he had everything in his trunk and that it was secure. He didn't want any of the Order members trying to snoop around and invading his privacy. Then he went back to investigating a small collection of pictures, memorizing the faces in them.
The first sign that the Order had turned up was when Hedwig hooted.
The second sign was when Harry heard a crash from downstairs.
He sighed. Even Caelum and Daniel could make a quieter entrance.
It sounded like someone was getting a quiet lecture. The group certainly weren't bothering to keep their voices down as they headed toward the stairs.
The lock on his door clicked open. Harry stared at it for a moment, and then quietly moved so that he was out of view of the door when it opened, turning off the lights on his way. It seemed that they had been expecting him to come out and investigate on his own, for it took a while before someone appeared in the doorway. Harry ascertained that none of the others had accompanied the man before he sprang forward.
"State your name and business," Harry growled.
The man raised his hands up. "Remus John Lupin," he stated clearly. "It's all right, Harry. We've come to take you away."
"How do I know you're really him?"
Someone else further down the hall let out a hoarse laugh. "Boy's after my own heart."
"Why are we all standing in the dark?" said a woman. "Lumos."
Harry instinctively crouched to dodge any spells as a wand-tip lit up the hall. A few feet behind the man was a large group of people gazing curiously at Harry.
The man seemed almost saddened by Harry's reaction. "It's okay, Harry," he repeated.
Harry's heart pounded. What am I supposed to do? Am I close to him? Do we hug or shake hands? No one ever talked about this!
The witch who had illuminated the hallway spoke up, drawing his attention to her. "Oooh, he looks just like I thought he would. Wotcher, Harry!"
He twitched at the style of greeting, and Lupin's frown deepened.
"Yeah, I see what you mean, Remus," a black man added. "He looks exactly like James."
"Except the eyes," another man said. "Lily's eyes."
A rather disfigured man with a whizzing eyeball was watching Harry closely. "Are you quite sure it's him, Lupin?" he growled. "It'd be a nice lookout if we bring back some Death Eater impersonating him. We ought to ask him something only the real Potter would know. Unless anyone brought any Veritaserum?"
"Harry, what form does your Patronus take?" Lupin asked.
"No offense, professor, but that's a stupid question," said Harry. "If people have been watching me, they might've seen it the other day."
Lupin smiled. "That's him, Mad-Eye."
Okay, apparently that was in character. Keep it up, Potter.
Slowly Harry straightened and lowered his wand. The scarred man, Mad-Eye, followed the movement as Harry tucked his wand into the holster.
Lupin held out his hand.
Ah, so we shake hands. Good to know.
"How are you?" Lupin asked.
"Fairly good, all considering," Harry replied.
Lupin smiled weakly. "Sometimes that's the best we can hope for, eh?" He glanced back at the others and began introducing them. "This is Alastor Moody, Harry."
"It's nice to meet you," Harry said politely to the disfigured man, who grunted in response.
"The real me, you mean."
"Er, yeah," Harry said.
"And this is Nymphadora – " Lupin continued.
"It's Tonks!" the young witch said immediately.
Harry felt his lips twitch.
"Nymphadora Tonks, who prefers to be known by her surname only," Lupin finished with his own smile.
He then introduced the black man as Kingsley Shacklebolt, the only one whom Harry recalled himself. Another man named Dedalus Diggle insisted that they had met before, and was almost overcome with excitement. Harry, who had very little experience with fans, just wished they would all stop looking at him.
"We're wasting time," said Moody. "Potter, is your trunk packed? Got your broom?"
"Yes," Harry replied. "Are we flying?"
"It's the only way since you're so young," Lupin explained. "You can't Apparate, they'll be watching the Floo Network and it's more than our life's worth to set up an unauthorized Portkey."
Harry knew for a fact that Dumbledore could create a Portkey, but he supposed it was too much to ask of the old man.
"But Voldemort and his Death Eaters can fly, too," he pointed out instead.
Several of the people in the group let out exclamations at the name, and Harry rolled his eyes.
"Which is why we have the guard," Moody said shortly.
Lupin checked his watch. "Well then, it seems we have another fifteen minutes. Harry, do you think your relatives would mind if we used their kitchen?"
"Not at all."
~FoD~
As he followed Tonks into a dive, it took everything in Harry not to fly past her. By the time they reached the ground, he was quite glad of it because it was hard for him to go so slow, even if he knew it was part of the defensive maneuvers.
"Merlin," Lupin murmured. "You've gotten even better than the last time I saw you flying."
Harry felt his cheeks stain pink, though with the Disillusionment Charm on him it could not be seen.
"Thanks," he muttered.
He looked around the disreputable square in which they stood. His teeth chattering, Harry watched as Moody removed each of the lights with a small device. Moody then grabbed Harry and dragged him across the square with the guard following them.
"Read this and memorize it," Moody growled, thrusting a small piece of paper into Harry's hand.
Harry barely glanced at it. As he thought the words, Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, London, a large townhouse appeared before him.
"I see it," he said quietly.
Moody snatched the paper and lit it on fire, destroying the evidence. At Moody's sharp gesture, Harry climbed up the steps to the front door, which Lupin tapped once with his wand. The door opened slowly.
"Get inside, quick, but don't go far and don't touch anything," Lupin whispered to him.
Harry crept forward into the dark hall, and the others followed behind him with Moody closing the door. The Disillusionment Charm was removed from Harry, and everyone else became visible as well. When Moody lit the lamps, Harry wrinkled his nose at the general air and look of neglect in the house.
Footsteps came from the other end of the hall, and a plump woman with graying red hair appeared. She beamed at Harry and pulled him into a hug.
"Oh, Harry, it's lovely to see you!" Mrs. Weasley whispered. "You're looking peaky; you need feeding up, but you'll have to wait a bit for dinner, I'm afraid..."
Harry tuned her out, more interested in the man who was lingering in the shadows.
Merlin, he looks like crap. How could Dumbledore do this to him?
"Hello, Sirius," Harry said a bit shakily.
Sirius grinned and stepped forward to give him a quick hug.
"You weren't supposed to notice me. I'll see you after the meeting, okay?"
"Yeah, okay," Harry murmured, letting Mrs. Weasley usher him toward the stairs.
He tried to ignore the decorations on the walls as he followed her, although he was curious about the large portrait with curtains over it.
"I've got to go," Mrs. Wealsey whispered to him. "Your room is the first door on the left. You're sharing with Ron. I'll call you when the meeting is over."
Harry nodded and she dashed off downstairs again.
For a long moment he stared at the light coming from underneath the door. Then he steeled himself, gripped the doorknob, which was shaped like a serpent's head, and opened the door.
"Harry!" a voice shouted right before his vision was covered by bushy hair and arms wrapped around him in a tight embrace. "Ron, Ron, he's here, Harry's here! We didn't hear you arrive! Oh, how are you? Are you all right? Have you been furious with us? I bet you have, I know our letters were useless – but we couldn't tell you anything, Dumbledore made us swear we wouldn't, oh, we've got so much to tell you, and you've got things to tell us – "
"Hermione," Harry cut her off, so abruptly that she subsided at once.
A lanky boy with bright red hair gave him a tentative smile which Harry didn't return.
Hermione pulled back, biting her lip. "You're mad, aren't you?"
"No."
There was a soft whooshing sound and something white soared from the top of a dark wardrobe and landed gently on Harry's shoulder. He looked at the owl in surprise.
Then she nipped his ear hard.
"Bloody bird," he muttered as she flew back up to the wardrobe.
"She got here earlier and has been pecking at us since then," said Ron, who looked just as nervous as Hermione. "We really did want to tell you, mate, but –"
"I get it," Harry said. "You can't disobey Dumbledore."
He thought he heard a snicker from the empty portrait on the wall, and made a note to remove it at once.
"Look, I really don't want to talk right now. Can I please just take a nap?"
Ron and Hermione exchanged a look. They seemed disconcerted by his tone.
"Yeah, mate," Ron said, moving toward the door. "'Course you can."
Later, when they came to check on him, Harry pretended to be asleep. A little while after that he heard hushed voices and a plate being set down on the desk. Then a gentle hand ruffled his hair, and he turned instinctively into the touch with a quiet murmur of, "Uncle Sirius…"
The man let out a soft sound. Realizing what he'd said, Harry stayed still, hoping they would think he was only sleep-talking. After a long moment, the two men quietly left the room, and Harry let himself relax again.
AN1: FOD stands for foreign object damage... which is what I'm doing to the original story. I love an accidental irony. :)
(Yes, I know it can stand for other things, too.)
AN2: I update at random times because that's how my schedule works.
AN3: Things to expect in this story:
Major bashing of Snape. Minor bashing of Dumbledore and Ginny. OOC-ness because, obviously, I'm not JKR.
AN4: At the bottom of some chapters will be story ideas/prompts that are up for adoption (chapter 2 provides an example of this).
