For those of you returning, I added dates so you won't get lost in the timeline.
- August 23rd, 1938 -
Harry watched as people passed him by without a second glance; his ruffed up appearance and baggy clothes lumped him instantly with the other rugrats living on the streets. He felt uncomfortable being out in the open but at the same time, the breath of fresh air and the sounds around him made him more at ease than when he was living with the Dursley's. He never wanted to go back to that prison again. It was only a few hours ago - mere moments before sunrise - that he found an opening to escape, and without much thought, he found himself taking it. He knew they wouldn't look for him, at least by the way they've treated him for the past twelve years… He hopes they aren't looking for him.
He felt the rough stone and stray pebbles stab beneath his feet as he started to walk again, in a random direction. The sun was warm against his skin and the shrubs plastered along the streets were growing yellow flowers. The scent of coconut was wafted in his direction by the breeze, jogging his memory of a small pamphlet filled with pictures of flowers, 'Gorse was the name for these ' he thinks. Everything he felt and saw around him was amazing! What he read in books and saw from the few glances he took outside, didn't compare to the actual experience he has right now.
The Dursleys always kept him at the house, acting as their personal slave, telling everyone that he was being homeschooled with a trusted teacher. It didn't show favoritism or ruin their perfect image to those outside because it showed wealth. Dudley happily saying that he 'likes meeting new people' just makes it worse. How dare he have the gall to say that the academy's environment is better suited for him!
Distracted in his thoughts Harry didn't notice the way the air surrounding him shifted unnaturally, nor how the flowers beside him began to emit a soft pop all at once, the sound was hidden discreetly under the chirps of birds and murmurs of those on the street. Like an illusion, he passed right through the thickest of barriers. A sudden rush of sound hits his ears and for a moment, all he sees is black.
'Pop'
He hears them now but the scent has turned foul, it reminds him of the rabbit a mile back, decomposing on the sidewalk... Once Harry regains his sight he wills down the urge to scream. The small groups of people walking the streets of a compact -and quiet village in Scotland, instantly turns into a large crowd surrounded by tall buildings! People wore long colorful robes and polished shoes that tapped and shifted above intricately designed cobblestone. There were people shouting out discounts to their stores, and many talking about their day to the person walking next to them. It was a shock and it had Harry frozen in place. Why were they all dressed so oddly? How in the world did he get here?!
If Harry didn't stand out before -he certainly did now. His simple, brown, worn out trousers and white shirt made him look practically naked in comparison to these people! A moment later of stumbling and getting pushed by the crowd, he soon found himself stood outside a bookstore called "Slug and Jiggers Apothecary."
"What's an Apothecary?" He muttered to himself, gaining the attention of someone who had just walked out of the store.
"Why dis shop is where many wizards go to get ingredients for der potions of course, surely ye know dat seeing as yer a Hogwarts student, aye?"
"Uh.." Harry stuttered. He'd only heard the Scottish accent a few times after he and the Dursleys moved here from London, so the foreign words threw him for a loop.
'Hog warts, is that a school? Who would name their school after a pig with moles?!' He thought to himself.
The words wizard and potions were also quite lost on Harry, was this woman alright? The confused and near disgusted look on Harry's face caused the woman to pause and re-evaluate his appearance.
"Are ye a muggle, what are ye doing out here all alone? Are ye here with yer family?" Her voice was stern which didn't seem to match with her soft jovial accent and wavy brown hair.
"Um, n-no, I was just walking down the street and somehow I ended up here."
The tension from her shoulders seemed to ease a bit at his words. "Well then, yer certainly no muggle if da's dee case."
The look of confusion never left his face and the woman looked at the child before her in concern.
"What's a muggle? You also speak of wizards and potions as if their real..." The woman's brows raised to the top of her hairline.
"Are ye not from around here boy?" Harry shook his head causing the woman before him to mimic his face of confusion.
"And, what street were ye walking on exactly?" He just shrugged, he hadn't paid attention to the street names, there was no reason to.
He wasn't sure why, but when he met the woman's eyes again he felt something close to a headache probing at his skull. The woman's eyes widened she was only able to obtain a glimpse of the boy's memory before his magic instinctively pushed her out… The street he was on was located miles from the border of Hogsmeade within the muggle world. She hadn't heard of another gate besides the one within Leaky Cauldron, so...?
'How could a mere child, powerful enough to stop my legilimency, and somehow enter Hogsmeade through thin air instead of dee gate, not know anything 'bout magic?'
It was strange, something was still not right. He'd have to walk off the nearest path, onto the field, and into the ocean to reach the border of the island. As it was now -his oversized clothes weren't too muddy and were completely dry.
"What's yer name boy?"
He hesitates, there's that voice in the back of his mind that wonders if this woman might know or run into the Dursley's, what would stop her from telling them where he is?
He stalls in making a decision by asking her's instead.
"Only if I may get yours first."
The woman rose her brow as she stared consideringly into the boy's green eyes.
"Burke, Skyra Burke." Her voice once again took on that cold tone as if protecting herself from any scrutiny that might be directed towards her.
But all Harry did was blink, the curiosity and confusion never leaving his face, but he did seem to reach a final decision.
"I'm Harry Potter" Her eyes widened a bit, not expecting the mysterious child to hold the name of such an old, dead, and powerful lineage. Not to mention one from the lighter houses at that.
"And where exactly are yer parents Potter?" She spoke quietly, already knowing, but she wanted to test the boy's knowledge.
"I don't know, dead maybe..." He didn't look too affected, which means he definitely didn't have much of a connection to them.
Skyra sighed, this is not how she expected her day to go.
"Well, I can tell ye one thing right now, magic is everywhere Harry. And I can prove it to yeh if ye'll allow me the chance." Skyra held out her hand, her voice lost its edge allowing warmth to shine through.
At that, Harry couldn't find it in himself to refuse. If he found her too crazy, well, he'd just have to make another run for it.
He took her hand, pale, bony skin contrasting with squishy tan and his clothes brought some attention to the odd pairing as they walked down the street. Although, the lingering eyes seemed to be more interested in Skyra rather than Harry. As they walked, Harry found it difficult not to notice all the strange things happening around him. Floating signs, animals twice his size, and others that were quite strange looking. He also noticed people holding wooden sticks…
"Are those wands?!" He whispered causing Skyra to chuckle. He must've found himself in a long-lost witch cult or something, but this made no sense, wouldn't someone have noticed this huge, MAGICAL, city filled with people?!
Through a particularly dark alley, she seems to notice Harry's discomfort towards the onlookers and decides to address it.
"Ye'll realize very soon da' one's surname carries much weight, Harry, and yer's happens to be very well known around here too."
He stops to look at the building stood in front of them "Borgin & Burkes"
"Are you saying you knew who my parents were?" He asked not taking his eyes off the signs.
"Personally, no; howeva, yer father came from a very old and powerful line of wizards an' witches. Pure in nature, of course, da' was before he met yer mother."
Harry's head snapped towards Skyra, this was more information than the Dursley's had ever cared to share, that is, if this information is even accurate.
"There was something wrong with my mother?"
She paused for a moment, her eyes almost seemed to stare through Harry's being until she looked away. Gesturing inside with a nod of her head, Harry followed her -a bit confused, but he didn't say anything more.
Harry was amazed by what he saw! Placed along the walls and tables were skulls, books, masks and variously sized vials -which he assumed held potions.
"This is like something out of a fairytale."
Skyra chuckled "aye, dat's what dem mudbloods call biography nowadays."
Harry didn't bother giving her a response, he'd settled hours ago with the fact that he might never understand her by this point, so what did it matter?
He stuck to wandering around the shop, Skyra had walked into a room in the back, not expecting him to follow her as she waved her hands in a carefree manner, with a murmur he didn't quite catch.
He scoured for a few minutes until a peculiar book caught his eye.
"The Nature of Magic."
Harry grabbed the book without thinking, he felt drawn to it for some reason.
"Now da's interesting, Harry, can ye understand da'?"
Harry almost jumped out of his skin, he hadn't heard her come up behind him in the slightest.
"I-It says 'The Nature of Magic' why?"
She shifted her weight to the other leg, causing Harry to notice the stacks of papers and books she was now carrying.
'Well dat's very strange now isn't it, No one who's entered dis shop has been able to read it."
"Why not?"
Skyra smirked, 'dis boy is more than a wee bit interesting, I wonder how de Gaunts would react to dis one.'
"Because it's written in Parseltongue dearie, a language passed only through lineage and der's only one family who currently speaks it."
"So one of my parents spoke it then?" His mouth ran faster than his mind, not wondering how, or why, she acquired the book in the first place.
Skyra shook her head and took a seat at the nearest table, Harry chose the seat in front of her.
"I'm afraid not sweetie, Yer mother was known as a born muggle and yer father a wizard from a long line of Gryffindors. Unless ye have Slytherin's blood in ye body somewhere it should be near impossible for ye to read it, let alone speak."
"So, are you saying I'm a bastard?" The boy's posture was calm and relaxed as he leaned slightly back into his chair, his eyes unwaveringly stared into her own.
It was strange, he'd never felt this confident before… He's never felt this safe. It felt nice, to be comfortable.
"Well, I'm not entirely sure about da' but looking at dis picture it's no doubt yer der child, so, while it's a possibility I don' think it's a high one."
She took a sheet of paper from the top of the stack, it read "The Daily Prophet", it was from sixteen years ago. The couple in the photo were moving and that caused Harry to do a double take.
"How is it doing that?"
"Magic, Harry, dat'll be the basic answer to nearly everything amazing of which you'll encounter here."
Harry couldn't believe his life, it's one thing to see magic from afar, but this, this showed him how truly real magic felt.
As he held the paper he felt warmth emit from it like body heat. Looking at his parents for the first time in his life -the image played like a tape on repeat, the difference; however, was how clear and vibrant the photo was without the need of a screen.
Skyra gave Harry a few moments of silence but when she saw his eyes begin to water she had to ask.
"Harry, do ye have a home to back to?"
He shook his head as memories of the Dursley's mistreatment and harsh commands filtered through his head. What would it have been like if his parents had survived, would they have loved him?
"I do all they ask and sometimes they still refuse to feed me. They yell at me… sometimes they beat me too."
Harry's voice shook, his eyes still staring at the paper he laid on the transparent table. He didn't know what caused him to trust her with this information but it was too late now. He missed the concern and anger that passed through Skyra's facade.
"Have ye ever done magic before today Harry, has anything strange ever occurred around you?"
Harry shrugged nonchalantly, but the more he thought about it the more idiotic he felt, a lot started to make sense now. "Sometimes plates would hover in the air, one time I got mad and a few bulbs broke. They call me a freak for it."
Skyra shook her head in disagreement with his words. " Ye're anything but a freak, what ye did was natural for a wizard under stress, it's called accidental magic."
Harry pursed his lips, it happened a lot and Skyra could tell just by looking at him.
She sighed, "Ye, can't very well go back der, dat's for sure."
Harry nodded he was ecstatic that someone, for once in his life, stood by him. When the bell at the front of the shop rang, a sharp round of cackles -he hadn't noticed when they entered, filtered throughout the shop, Skyra stood up.
"There's more articles and books here about yer family, if ye'd like to read them." She pointed at the stack she laid down earlier.
"Ye can stay here with me for now. I have a customer to tend to, try not to be too noticeable… We don't always get the best of guests."
Harry nodded, a bit curious as to why that was before he continued to read...
