Strange Days is an idea I've been kicking around for some time now. I enjoy writing, I really do, but the last time I wrote and posted something on FF, I got thirteen chapters into a story before it was pulled. I'm not sure if it was the 'sexual content' or the 'graphic violence' or whatever it was that made the site admins pull it, but either way, it really screwed me over. At the time I was barely scraping by, and writing as an escape. The only 'copy' of the story I had were the chapters that had been uploaded on the sight. I was using a library computer and writing the entire chapters in the edit screen. So when it got pulled, I couldn't even continue it on another site. So I quit for a while, but, the bug is back, and this is the result.
Submitted for the approval of the Harry Potter Fandom, I give you 'Strange Days', a story that is definitely three things. An AU, a firm M on the rating, and a story that will be completed. I already have the second and third chapter completed, and will be uploading the next chapter once I have a few more hammered out.
Summary: When Dobby's use of Magic in the summer after Harry's first year at Hogwarts brings an Owl from the Ministry down on his head, Harry's relatives take the opportunity presented to them by the knowledge that he can't threaten them with that 'stick of his'. Things take a turn for the decidedly ugly shortly after the owl arrives and in the ensuing confrontation, Harry's wand is broken. Deprived of his one defense, Harry escapes and wanders until he stumbles upon the Granger's dental practice.
After some time spent in the hospital, Harry moves in with the Granger's and is happy there. No major diversion from main cannon events until fourth year, which is where the story starts. After all, without his Holly and Phoenix feather wand, there is no 'Brother Wand' effect to save him, and he must rely on himself to make it out alive.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry or any of the other Cannon characters. JKR's stuff, obviously. I am, however, twisting it around for my own amusement. No profit being made, y'know. Standard Disclaimer stuff.
Edit: Redid the line breaks so it's more readable. Also touched up a few bits here and there. The only thing you'd actually notice though is that there are actual breaks now. Unless you're anal like me. In which case you'd discover the few extra words here and there to tidy things up, as well as the mild corrections.
~Strange Days~
"Imperio..." A voice was heard, the barest whisper wrapped in pain and exhaustion pushed past cracked and bleeding lips. There was a flash of yellow and eyes that had been concerned only a second before became distant and glazed. A car door closed without clicking in place and the repetitive 'door ajar' ding in the semi-silence of an idling engine and an only just lapsed conversation seemed an absurd and almost otherworldly bit of normalcy for the scene taking place.
'I'm not a perfect person...'
"Drive..." There was no destination in mind. Just a road to escape and a place to leave. If the person behind the wand had any thought to a place to go it was only in the vague hints of far off lands and clear blue skies, thoughts that in themselves had a ring of falsehood amidst the agony the caster of the unforgivable was experiencing. The wand was held as if unfamiliar, the grip wrong and haphazard, the wrong wand and in the wrong hand.
'There's many things I wish I didn't do...'
None of this really mattered, it was simply abstract. Observations from observers that didn't exist, or if they did, had no baring. The radio was playing, but the battered sedan possessed a coat hanger antenna and the song was unclear. A vaguely recognizable song of the type that everyone says they can relate to while they're listening but which nobody gives a damn by the time the DJ plays the next track. Still, while one is listening, it does tend to make one think.
For the only person aware in the vehicle, the song had it's desired affect though. The face behind the wand was withdrawn, screwed up in pain and gradually slackening with the loss of blood leading him steadily down the path towards loss of consciousness. What little light was left in the eyes that remained flickering to the surrounding was focused inward, the wielder was quickly losing the battle to stay in the here and now and the soft sounds from the radio only hindered what effort he was able to give.
'But I continue learning...'
Thoughts of faces and places flashed through his minds eye and the wand slowly lowered to his lap as tears began to slide down his broken face from the one eye that wasn't a bloodshot mess. Times gone past, like a highlight reel on some late night talk show, showed the best and worst as the old Mercury stuttered it's way up through fourth gear and crested the last hill in Little Hangleton and left a scene of horrific violence far behind.
'I never meant to do those things to you...'
~Strange Days~
TRAGEDY AT TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT
Champions abducted by Death Eaters
By Silus Goodspeed.
At the end of the TriWizard Tournament, utter chaos had erupted. The two Hogwarts champions had been spirited away by a portkey and were not seen again for some time. It was, in fact, nearly a full two days before the body of Cedric Diggory was recovered from the Greater Hangleton county morgue.
This Reporter was lucky enough to get a hold of an official After Action Report from the initial investigation. What follows is an outline of what is contained within the report, I have tried to keep it as accurate as possible, though I have omitted certain details, such as full spell lists. The rest has been edited only as much as my source has directed, for reasons I agree with. Those of you who have ready my reports in the past should understand the passion I have for the truth, so when I say what follows is as accurate as I can make it, believe it.
Upon arrival at the Greater Hangleton county morgue, the evidence of Dark Magic was fairly glowing across the mutilated remains of the once handsome features. The Aurors investigating the case, upon recovering Cedric and arranging for transport of his remains, moved on to investigate the graveyard.
Once the Muggles had been dealt with and the investigation had begun in earnest, it was hard to say what was the most shocking. The air was chokingly thick with the aftereffects of ritual magics and the entire area was covered in the scars of an intense outbreak of fighting. With liberal use of specialized reenactment charms and the presence of Ministry Sanctioned Crime Scene Diviners, the Aurors were able to piece together a rough version of what had occurred. The TriWizard cup had been a portkey to the Little Hangleton cometary. It had deposited the two boys almost directly in front of Tom Riddle Sr.'s tombstone. An AK was cast, the perpetrator was unknown, and Cedric Diggory was felled, Harry Potter, in his grief, was an easy target for the attacking wizard to stun.
From there, an elaborate ritual was prepared before Harry Potter was given a weak Enervate and allowed to come to slowly, in time for him to take part in said ritual. Extensive research would prove that this particular ritual was typified Class 1 Necromancy, though this reporter will not say anything further. The magical signature would be determined with an 82 percent accuracy rating to be Tom Riddle Jr., alias Lord Voldemort. Further investigation showed that after Tom Riddle's resurrection he summoned what Death Eaters would answer his call by way of the Protean charm embedded in the Dark Mark. (speculation) Once his followers were gathered, Tom Riddle Jr. then began to duel Harry Potter.
Harry Potter, was able to cast three stunners and two disarmament charms before Tom Riddle Jr. successfully summoned Harry Potter's wand and placed him under the Cruciatous curse. Attempting to escape upon release of the curse, Harry Potter tried to reach the TriWizard Cup. A Death Eater, identity unknown, cast several curses of Level 2 Restriction, removing Harry Potter' floating ribs by dissolving their attachment to his spine and then summoning them through his skin. The same Death Eater then healed Harry Potter before continuing with a Norse spell commonly referred to as Bottled Lighting.
It was at this point that Tom Riddle Jr. intervened. A subordinate, referred to as 'Wormtail' was ordered to collect Harry Potter. MSCSD's confirm that Harry Potter was able to make use of a Life Debt to acquire 'Wormtail's' wand. Harry Potter then cast a stunner on 'Wormtail' before hiding behind a tombstone. What followed was an astonishing number of spells being traded back and forth. From his hiding spot, Harry Potter cast several stunners and was answered by many dark curses. Tom Riddle Jr. himself was the only one to cast AK's, it should be noted.
After some time, things took a turn for the worse for Harry Potter, it seems. Each Death Eater stunned was swiftly revived and very shortly, Harry Potter was surrounded. Now, before you read further, bare in mind the situation our Hero, the Boy Who Lived found himself in. At age fourteen, only hours after fighting through an exhaustive Labyrinth, Harry Potter was forced into helping bring one of the most feared men in British history back to life. His blood a key component in breathing life into the murderer of his parents. After the ritual he was tortured. If you can only attempt to place yourself in his shoes; Exhausted, terrified, alone, bleeding and beaten, nerves still on fire from the Dark Lords own Crucio, perhaps you can identify with the state of mind that cause him to act as he did next. Certainly, this reporter can only marvel at his strength for continuing to fight as he did.
Keeping all of that in mind, what I am about to say may still shock you. Harry Potter cast the killing curse. For those of you who have had the misfortune of using that curse, you must know the strain it takes on your reserves. The potent nausea that follows. Evidence certainly proves that Harry Potter felt it. In the midst of the potent magics being hurled about, the reenactment charms become less sharp, but the photos that came with the After Action Report (See Opposite Page) are still clear enough to see that even as he fought for his very survival, Harry was violently ill.
Forced to cast the spell repeatedly, Harry swiftly tired, and began to resort to unusual applications of more normal charms. A spell designed for the simple purpose of anchoring supports in building construction severely injured two Death Eaters. Still, even fighting as bravely as he was, Harry Potter was still a fourteen year old Wizard surrounded by hardened killers. Let us not forget, Tom Riddle Jr., the Dark Lord himself, was there as well. Before the reenactment charms completely cease functioning, the Dark Lord is seen to be casting a killing curse at Harry Potter, and something occurs to prevent it connecting. MSCSD's theorize upon what they are able to divine that it was a powerful manifestation of panic induced accidental magic. The aftermath of this event left the area too highly saturated with magic to discover anything further.
Whether it was, or if this is a miracle the likes of which catapulted a 15 month old infant into the hearts of Wizards and Witches everywhere 13 years ago, the end result was that, as evidence tentatively suggest, Harry Potter survived. In what condition he is in, the AAR doesn't say, and this reporter is reluctant to speculate. What is known is that his body was not found, nor was there any evidence of his death. The fact that Death Eaters have not made a public sign of our Hero's demise is, perhaps, hopeful, but those of us who remember the war know only to well where that kind of hope can lead.
Whatever the case may be, Mr. Potter, I for one am keeping you in my heart with every wish for your safety.
~Strange Days~
Hermione Jane Granger was an emotional wreck. This was not entirely unexpected if one were to consider the circumstances. After all, her best friend, Harry Potter, had been missing for nearly a week now. The school year was almost over and there had been no sign of him. She would be boarding the Hogwarts Express in less than 24 hours and Harry Potter would not be in her compartment. Harry Potter would not be grinning that lopsided grin as she and Ron bickered over something inconsequential. Harry Potter would not be answering her questions in his newly found bass tones that made her stomach do flip flops.
No, Hermione was not coping well. It did not help that she and Ron were no longer on speaking terms. A comforting embrace had devolved rapidly into a scorching row when the hormones of a teenage boy had come 'poking' around. Viktor had tried to help, assuring her that Harry Potter was too strong to have died. But the blunt assurances delivered in broken English had contained too many words that rang of finality. The Bulgarian may have been saying that Harry was not dead, true, but the very word 'dead' was too harsh in her ears. She had cried, every time.
The muggle-born Witch was currently sequestered in her canopied bed with the curtains drawn, squeezing her body pillow hard enough to leave a crimp in it's shape. At her side was a bottle of Ogdens Finest. She had tried to drown her sorrows, but even the terrible depression that gripped her could not make a hardcore drinker out of the fifteen year old. In the two days Hermione had been in possession of the Firewhiskey, she had only managed to down about five shots worth. It was too harsh on her system and only made her more miserable.
It was times like this that Hermione was hardest upon herself for her social inadequacies. Having put so much of herself into her studies, she had missed out on building those skills that allowed one to even recognizing a burgeoning crush for what it was. Oh, sure. In the abstract frame of mind, Hermione had been aware of her attraction for Harry. It was, she assumed, only natural. He had saved her life as a mere 11 year old. Defended her time and again. 'A silly thing,' she had told herself the first time the idea of some sort of romantic entanglement with Harry had entered her mind. After all, Harry was the savior of the Wizarding world. She knew he hated the idea of it, but the fact was, Hermione assured herself, that when Harry began to take an active interest in the fairer sex, he would have no shortage of prospects. Prospects infinitely more beautiful than Hermione 'Plain Jane' Granger.
Pulling herself from such thoughts, Hermione unscrewed the cap from the bottle at her side and choked down another swallow, fighting against her bodies immediate urge to bring it back up. At this point, it was almost self defense. Every moment sober, every moment conscious was more terrible than the last. Ever since Harry had shown up at her parents practice, bruised and feverish, in the second week of the summer holiday, she had grown more and more attached to him. Now he was gone, though Hermione refused to even allow the thought that it was anything more than temporarily so to form.
Another swallow of Ogden's and Hermione lost the battle against her gag reflex and turned her head to vomit. Bile and alcohol splashed across her covers, and for a moment after, dry heaves prevented her from banishing the mess. When her breathing stabilized, and the tremors of her throat had stilled, a quick flick and a swish went along with a mumbled incantation and the only evidence that it had occurred was the scent. Hermione hardly noticed as the tears began again.
"Oh Harry... please, please! Come back to me!" Her whispered pleas trailed off into muffled sobs as she buried her face into her pillow and rolled over onto her side.
~Strange Days~
'I feel summer creepin' in...'
The radio was the first sound that had reached him consciously in some time. Blearily, one eyelid twitched a time or two before the mucus crust that held it shut was broken. An astonishingly green eye was exposed to the world for only the briefest moment before shutting. Light was agony, Harry immediately decided. After a brief moment of respite, the teenagers body felt it time to let him know that, indeed, everything was agony. From toenails to split ends, everything hurt. A groan of pain escaped him.
'And I'm... tired of this town again...'
"Hmm, awake are yeh?" The voice was kept deliberately soft, Harry could tell that much even in his current state. It had come from what seemed to be about six feet to his left. The voice was male and had a vague hint of familiarity to it, though it might just have been one of those kind of voices. Either way, instinct overrode pain just long enough for Harry's wand arm to twitch, his wrist to rotate, hand to clasp at... hand to...
'Somethings not right.' The thought was all he was able to get to for a moment as he payed for the movement in spades. Teeth ground together hard enough to create a new source of agony as Harry discovered several teeth were loose. Despite the need to clench his jaw to fight the pain, years of abuse had taught him how to work around it enough to avoid agitating injury, so his jaw was forcibly unclenched.
"Easy, kiddo. Gonna' give yourself an aneurysm you keep tensin' up like that." The voice again, reminding Harry of exactly why he'd moved in the first place. This time it was only by sheer will that remained still. The radio was silent now, and Harry was able to hear the creak of a chair as the speaker shifted. There were no footsteps, so Harry figured the man was still sitting. Harry hoped the man was sitting anyway, he hadn't heard the kind of sounds that indicated movement, but he'd been rather preoccupied with the thousand different flavors of 'Fuck!' his body seemed intent on feeding him.
"Where am I?" Harry figured it was a safe enough question to ask, though he couldn't help but wince at the sound of his voice. He was hoarse – of course, of course – and his voice was further distorted by a swollen jaw. Still, his mind was honed for survival. First rule was to always keep'm talking. Every moment they wasted talking was another minute you could think. Every now and then you even picked up something worthwhile from the speech as well. More to the point, people gave off a lot of tells, especially when they considered themselves in a superior position. By listening to inflection and tone, even the way the words formed, Harry had been able to anticipate and sometimes diffuse beatiings or other forms of abuse by pro actively working to appease.
"Little Ma'n Pa kind of place in Assfuck Nowhere." The swearing was a surprise, not because of the words themselves, but by the delivery. With the agony of his body settling down to a background buzz, Harry clued into the American style of speech in his apparent captors voice. Odd, he'd never have figured Voldemort would let the Americans join his rank.
"Ma and Pa?" Harry's voice was a bit stronger now, he was gradually becoming more awake, more aware with the pain having receded somewhat. Still, there was something gnawing at the back of his mind. That little something that wasn't right. Still, he wouldn't let it distract him overly much. It wouldn't do to relax just yet. It was reassuring that the vaguely familiar voice contained not a hint of hostility. The voice, in fact, had a sort of easy quality to it. Very relaxed, mildly curious. It could be a ruse, but if it was, it was a good one.
"Yeah, kid. Shit, I dunno'. I came outta' this fog I was in for a while after I picked you up and we were in the middle of nowhere. I musta' been really zoned, dig?" More Americana. Such strange slang the man used. Harry could follow it easy enough, as long as he remained absolutely still in order to avoid another eruption of pain. His musings on the slang were suddenly halted as sudden realization struck him like a bolt out of the blue. The 'fog' the man was referring to was the imperious curse that Harry himself had put the man under. That was why he sounded so damned familiar! When Harry had staggered from the graveyard, one arm dangling uselessly at his side, the other clutching a wand and pressing hard into his abdomen to try and do something about the large gash that was fairly oozing blood, he'd come across the road without even realizing it and nearly been run down by a car.
The driver had leaped out and started to shout something before seeing the state Harry had been in, and immediately switched from anger to shocked concern. Harry had been clinging to consciousness with all he had, and he could barely make out the mans words. Still, in the background of his mind, he'd become aware of Voldemort stirring through the connection they shared, and he knew he had to get out of there. So, when the absurd idea had popped into his mind, he'd acted on it. After all, considering the spells he'd been slinging about in the graveyard, what was one more Unforgivable? He'd imperio'd the Muggle nd gotten into the car. It was all hazy, but he remembered trying to stay awake long enough to figure out where to go. Apparently, it hadn't worked. He'd drifted off and, magicly exhausted, the imperious had ended.
"-ead for sure, dig? I was thinkin' I hadn't heard you say anything for a minute." The man pronounced minute 'min-ot', and it took Harry a moment to figure out what he'd said. More to the point, he was unsure what he'd missed of the conversation.
"So I turn around, you're not movin', kid. Just a bloody heap in the back'a ol' Betty. So I jammed the hammer and we hauled ass down the road until I saw a sign for a town. Thank God there was a doctor in town, Kid, cause the doc said you had died..." He had died? Harry was understandably shocked.
"I... I died?" For the first time since he'd woken up, his voice wasn't the carefully friendly-neutral he'd been speaking in thus far. The shock and fear were obvious, and the crack in the midst of his words only made him seem more like the scared young adult he was at that moment.
"Yeah. Doc didn't have a clue how long, he said he was shocked he was able to resuscitate'cha... but he figured you'd be a vegetable or near it if you woke up." Again, Harry was shocked. It was, frankly, disturbing to realize that he had been dead. What does one say to that? How do you deal with the knowledge that, for however long it was, you were no longer a card carrying member of the 'I Breathe Freely' club.
"How... how long have I been out?" Harry was almost afraid of the answer. Brief visions of a Rip Van Winkle-esque coma popped into his head before logic shot that down. Obviously, the muggle wouldn't still be hanging around if he'd been out that long, still...
"Right around six days, kiddo. Lucky think you woke up, actually." The time frame took a moment to process. It had been his longest time unconscious in years. Hermione had explained it to him that, after a certain age, the magical core stabilizes in Witches and Wizards and naturally speeds up the healing process by a fair amount. Injuries and maladies that would cripple a Muggle or disable them for a set amount of time were typically halved in most circumstances for those with magic. So if he'd been out that long without being magicly sedated, that was troubling. He must have been every bit as bad as he'd felt and worse.
"Yeah.. I guess it is lucky..." Harry's voice was soft, contemplative and withdrawn. He couldn't help but think that the School would be letting out either today or tomorrow. Hermione would have to greet her parents without him for the first time in close to two years.
"Well, aside from the health shit, I meant it's lucky y'woke up 'cause I was giving ya a week before I left. Me'n the doc figured if you hadn't woken up by then, y'probably wouldn't." There was something going on in the man's voice. Some sort of evasion. Harry was no stranger to hedging around a subject that was difficult, so he knew the verbal cues quite well. He was about to tell him to get to the point when the man spoke again.
"I dunno why I stayed, kid, I just, I dunno. I felt kinda responsible. Maybe if I hadn't been so zoned out I would'a got here quicker or drove somewhere that had a real hospital... maybe you could've, uh..." Ah yes, the impasse had been reached. The subject the Muggle had been dancing around the whole time. Harry slowly, cautiously attempted to ease his eye open again. The light that had been so mindbogglingly bright before turned out to be a candle. It still hurt, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been at first. Seeing that it was okay, he attempted to open the other one, but it remained stubbornly closed. Harry could feel gauze on his face though, so he was willing to bet his eyes was covered for the moment and leave it be.
"Could've what?" His tone had reverted to neutral again, though now it was neutral-imploring. Gentle prodding was always best when dealing with guilt. Subtlety was a skill that had taken time and effort, and quite a bit of both at that, to develop, but it had worked for him time and again. So for now he would just probe lightly to get what he wanted. If it didn't work, he'd start getting loud, but not until diplomacy had failed.
"Kid." The man laughed suddenly, a harsh and bitter sound. "You got real fucked up, alright." 'That,' Harry thought. 'Does not sound good.'
"How fucked up are we talking?" Fuck subtlety, Harry was worried now.
"I should go get the Doc." Harry wasn't given a chance to respond, the man had stood and hurried out of the room without a backward glance. His body language was nervous though, almost twitchy. The laid back attitude had progressed swiftly to something laden with tension, and finally, the man who had sworn like a sailor and been easily forthcoming and genuinely helpful thus far refused to meet his eye when questioned directly. No, this wasn't good at all
~Strange Days~.
AN: OfficialWord Count for the Chapter: 4187. As you can see, Harry's a bit different from Cannon, and not just because of the time spent in the company of the Granger's. The how's and why's will come out in future chapters and flashbacks. You will eventually get to see the grave yard scene as it actually occurs, you will see a fair bit about what went on to get him to the Granger's. Also, I'm trying to keep the word count for each chapter around 4k, as it's an easy number to hit consistently, and it should allow me to update fairly regularly. Like I said, I already have the next two chapters written, so you won't have to wait too too long for updates. I'm thinking bimonthly at the moment. Oh yes, and on a side note, if anyone wants to Beta, I'd be glad for the help.