-Prologue-
Mr and Mrs. Dursley. Of Number four Privet drive, were proud to say that they are perfectly normal thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they simply didn't hold with such nonsense.
Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a very big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large moustache. Mrs. Dursley was thin and blond and had twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very handy as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors. The Dursley's have a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.
The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that someone would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters. Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister , but they haven't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good- for- nothing husband were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be. The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Potters arrived on the street. The Dursley's knew that the Potters had a small son, too, but they never seen him. This boy was another reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley mixing with a child like that.
When Mr and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, grey tuesday morning our story starts, and there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work while Mrs. Dursley gossiped away away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair. None of them noticed a large Tawny owl flutter past the window. At half past eight, Mr. Dursley picked up his briefcase , pecked Mrs. Dursley on the cheek, and tried to kiss Dudley goodbye but missed, because Dudley was having a tantrum and was throwing cereal at the walls. 'Little tyke.' Chortled Mr. Dursley as he left the house. He got in the car and backed out of number four's drive.
It was at the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar- a cat reading a map. For a second , Mr. Dursley didn't realize what he had seen- then he jerked his head back around to look again. There a tabby cat standing at the corner of privet drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of? It must of been a trick of the light. Mr. Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back. As Mr. Dursley rounded the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive - no, looking at the sign ; cats couldn't read maps or signs. Mr. Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove into town he thought of nothing but a large order of drills that he was hoping to get in that day.
Leaving Mr. Dursley to his affairs, we traverse elsewhere, north up to the small village of Godric's Hollow where a small family where frantically shuffling about.
'Quick Lily he is coming! We don't have time to lose!' A black haired bespectacled man whispered silently, however urgently.
'I'm just about finished love! With any luck our son will find it when the time comes!' A red haired woman replied with the same urgency.
The man nodded before whipping out his wand. 'Quickly hide yourself and Harry, I'll hold Voldemort as long as I can!'
The women dashed up a set of stairs, where in a nursery, she placed a hand on her baby's stomach. A faint silver glow slowly emanated. 'Harry James Potter, always remember, we love you. Forever and ever.'
BOOM! The women jumped and turned. She saw an emerald green flash coming from downstairs.
She maintained her hand upon her son's stomach for a second longer, then rushed to the doorway, where she faltered. As she drew her wand, she she gave a mighty screech. 'NOOO!' Green light flashed in her vision, and then she dropped to the ground. Lifeless. And then, there was silence. A body lay unmoving in the almost vacant nursery and a tall noseless man stood in the doorway.
His slitted eyes swiveled towards the one-year-old boy staring frightened at the dead body of his mother.
The wicked man grinned darkly, certain of his victory.
'AVADA KEDAVRA!'
The killing curse connected with the baby. Soon after, the explosion shook the house, leaving it in ruins.
A large gaping hole existed where part of the roof and wall should have been. The rest of the nursery had been completely destroyed, with the living room windows blown out and shattered across the lawn, as well as the brickwork from upstairs.
In his crib, little Harry had cried himself to sleep. The evil man was gone.
It wasn't until nightfall that a large motorcycle interrupted the sorrow filled scene
A large man, with a wild tangled beard, dismounted and looked upon the once beautiful cottage that had belonged to Lily and James Potter.
Several tears ran slowly down his cheek. He stared, unbelieving, at the destruction.
Entering the door was already destroyed and in halves in the living room, the lifeless body of James underneath it. Continuing on wards, the large man walked up the stairs, sprawled dead in the nursery he found lilly.
And still sleeping in his crib was Harry James Potter… The-Boy-Who-Lived.
Back at Number Four Privet Drive… an elderly man met with the same tabby cat that Mr. Dursley had been confronted with earlier that morning.… the darkness concealing them from unwanted attention.
'Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall.' The man said his attention turning to face the tabby cat. Though now replaced by a rather severe looking women. She wore square glasses that held the same shape as the marks on the cat, and around her an emerald green cloak. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.
'How did you know it was me?' She asked.
'My dear professor , I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly.'
Professor McGonagall snorted. 'You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on brick wall all day,'
'All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here.'
Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily. 'Oh yes, everyone's celebrating all right,' she said impatiently. 'You'd think they'd be a bit more careful , but no - even the muggles have noticed something is going on. It's on their news.' She jerked her head towards the Dursleys' dark living-room. 'I've heard it. Flocks of owls, shooting stars, well, they're not completely stupid. They are bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent- I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense.' Professor McGonagall ranted in annoyance.
Unnoticed by both of them, a large Barn owl sat up in a tree, listening intently to their discussion, still and unmoving despite the cold breeze ruffled its feathers.
The owl looked away from the two, as the groaning of a engine penetrated her ears. Out of the sky it descended.
While any Muggle would of assumed a plane was about to crash on top of them, they would be completely surprised to see a jet black motorcycle landing peacefully upon Privet Drive.
The owl continued to listen in, picking up on nothing that seemed relevant to her mission there.
Finally, close to an hour after the motorcycle had arrived, the three wizards left, leaving the owl to fly down as it landed upon the pavement. Though she was no longer an owl, but an elderly women, at least twice the age of Albus Dumbledore.
Her face remaining hidden underneath her hood, she moved a shaky hand upon the Babe who for the time being slept peacefully In a basket.
'I use the last of my strength to form your bond, and you will know her when you meet her. She'll know you when she meets you. Have strength and persevere.' The women said, her voice ancient and fleeting.
A small warm golden light radiated from the women's hand.
'Good luck Harry, and always remember what I have said' The women took a deep breath, turning away from the sleeping boy, and flying off as an owl.
She flew a long distance and arrived at a rather large and rather unusual looking home that appeared to several homes attached together, almost as if they were stacked together like a child's building blocks. On the second floor of the house, she found the room she was looking for and fluttered in, having magically opened a window. Once inside, the elderly witch found a sleeping baby girl in a crib.
'I use the last of my strength to form your bond, you will know him when you meet him, and he'll know you when he meets you. Remember my words, have strength and persevere.'
Once more a warm golden light shimmered from the elderly woman's hands. Though now as it ended, she turned to a pail of ash, and was blown out the window to be returned to the ancient place of her birth to start life anew.
And the rest of the Magical community in the United Kingdom silent raised their glasses to one toast.
'To Harry Potter! The- Boy- Who- Lived!'
-Chapter one-
-Saved-
It had been six long years since Harry's aunt, Mrs. Dursley had found her nephew on front porch. Though far from thrilled she had taken him in immediately, though suffice to say, Uncle Vernon quickly proved himself to be an ever growing problem.
By Harry's seventh birthday, his aunt had seldom seen her nephew due to the secret 'bonding time' he was sharing with his uncle in the basement, and when he wasn't, Harry was locked in his cupboard. One of the things he had quickly learned was to do without food and water for weeks at a time. The first time was painful, and had left Harry in tears. However, over time he learned to ignore the pain and the burning headache that came from a lack of water. Continue as per normal, with the occasional piece of bread and cup of water, and as far as Mr. Dursley was concerned, that was all that Harry would need.
If he had the option he would likely kill the brat, but knowing that his leash on Mrs. Dursley wasn't as strong as he would have liked it to be, no, he would restrain himself for now. If anything he could raise the boy to be decent slave, a status quo he'd kept ever since the boy had learned how to walk, and he bloody well made sure that the freak would learn nothing more than his station demanded.
On the eve of Harry's eighth birthday, his life began to change irrevocably. He was locked in his cupboard underneath the stairs, unable to summon the energy to move. He was alone in the house chained to the wall by his ankles, wrists, and neck. Any sudden movements would get him hurt more than he already was. The back his shirt was crimson, stained with his blood
He didn't know at that exact moment, but an elaborate ruse was about to be pulled to remove him from Number Four Privet Drive
Neither did the Dursleys know that they would be met by a team of Aurors, the Wizarding police, with a warrant for their arrest rather than spend the weekend at a luxury hotel in Blackpool Promenade.
Or that they would never see Number Four Privet Drive, or each other ever again.
In the late hours of the evening a tabby cat slunk silently down the street, finding her way to the seemingly empty house, where she had stood six years ago.
As she jumped up and over the shut front garden gate, The cat was replaced with a very stern looking women, with glasses matching those of the tabby cat which had been there only moments before. No one would be awake at this hour, and if anyone was there, they wouldn't see anything but pitch darkness and the cold fall air outside their window. The darkness of the night concealed her emerald green cloak.
Whipping out an elegantly carved stick from her robes, she tapped it to the lock, that gave a faint click, allowing her entry to the household. The witch placed her wand back into her pocket before entering.
The floorboards creaked under her steps. Inside, she looked around, finding it suspicious that a mere broom cupboard would be so heavily locked. Most would have a simple wood bar that could prevent the door opening on its own, not a bar going the length of the door. Moreover, there was light coming from underneath it. Suspicious, she re-brandished her wand then vanished the bar and unlocked the door. Opening it, she found the boy she was looking for. Yes she had expected the situation with the muggles to be bad, but nothing like this.
Inside the musty, cobweb ridden closet she found eight year old Harry James Potter. Chained to the wall by his ankles and neck, and looking about as thin as a twig like he hadn't eaten in a month. His bony face was marred in grime and dirt. His shirt was ten times his size, and the glasses he was wearing above emerald green eyes were barely holding together.
Harry looked at the women's sharp beady bespectacled eyes, scared, Anxious, and expecting the worst to happen. Immediately and quickly, he backed himself further into the wall, quivering from being both terrified and freezing cold.
He was unable to find his voice, something he hadn't used in many years, it had gotten him into more trouble than he could count, though admittedly, he couldn't count.
Seeing his behavior, the witch scrunched up her brows in worry. 'Please, Mr. Potter, don't be afraid. I won't hurt you, I promise. I just want to get you away from here, your aunt and uncle won't hurt you any more.'
His face remained wary, but confusion began to bloom all over it. Could it possible that he didn't know or remember his own name, The women wondered. She would have to focus on that another time.
The women flicked her wand and the chains clambered down to the floor, now hanging unstressed, leaving Harry falling to the floor, or rather into the woman's arms. Where he remained frozen. She carried him out of the broom closet, where she asked. 'Do you have anything you would like to take with you before we leave?'
Harry pointed to the floor inside the cupboards, the witch used her wand, and a loose floorboard made itself visible amongst the rest. On his own feet, Harry made his way to it, and removed the floorboard, revealing a light blue journal, that he kept close to him.
He was hesitant to get close to the woman again, but, when gestured he followed her obediently and quietly, as he had always done with the Dursleys,
He followed her out onto the dark outside, where he found himself almost blinded, having spent so much time in the light.
He jumped, frightened, when the witch placed a hand on his shoulder. 'Please stay close Harry, it will be easy to get lost.'
Keeping her hand on Harry's shoulder, she walked up to the edge of the sidewalk. Harry faintly saw the outline of the women holding out her arm for some reason. There was no reason for Harry to expect anything to come of this. Thus, he felt his breath escape him when a giant thing come out of nowhere, with lights breaking the darkness.
The women guided Harry onto the thing, where he pushed himself against her, extremely scared, as a man suddenly appeared in front of them, with a large toothy grin, his teeth yellow like Uncle Vernon's. His immediate reaction would be that this strange person would eat him like Vernon had one time, without much success. Harry still had nightmares about that. Where it not for a bright light suddenly shooting out from Harry's chest he doubted that he would be here, hoping it wouldn't happening again.
'Ah, Professor McGonagall Ma'am, welcome aboard the Night-bus.' the man exclaimed excitedly.
'Not now Stanley, can you please get us to the Leaky Cauldron, It's been a long night'
'Eh, alright Professor.' Stanley replied nervously.
'Please, you're not a student anymore, you can call me Minerva.' She replied sternly as she paid, and got Harry to a rather precisely loose seat. Whereas most other buses would have the seats fastened in an orderly manner in order to accommodate passenger numbers and safety, the night-bus was a little different in that its seats were loose and were free to go in whatever direction momentum carried them, among many other unique attributes that had left Harry wondering how he was still alive.
After roughly an hour by Minerva's count, the Night-bus came to stop outside a rundown looking tavern.
'The Leaky Cauldron!' Stanly called, as McGonagall encouraged Harry to get off the bench. After a shaky start, he managed to start walking, having given up trying to understanding what the bloody hell was going on and assuming that all this was some weird dream, and that he would wake chained to the wall in his cupboard under the stairs soon.
All of this was simply to weird to be true. The building stood on a corner and featured a faded old sign above the door
Leaky cauldron.
Est- 1500 (*1)
McGonagall guided him inside, where they found a mostly empty bar, there were a handful of elderly men sitting in a corner drinking. Whilst a gruff looking bartender stood behind the counter.
She kept Harry close as they made their way up to it.
'Hello Tom, you don't happen to have a room available for the night.'
'Good evening Minerva, I do, that will be one Galleon.'
With a nod the professor played as the bartendender looked through an endlessly large book, Harry not knowing that it was indeed very much endless 'Room 1,9,9,7 on the first flight.' Tom continued.
Harry was eerily aware of the glances the elderly men gave him, some even doing double takes. Did they want to hurt him? The way they smiled sent alarms in Harry's head, he definitely did not want this dream to turn into a nightmare. It had been pleasant enough thus far.
Before he could think too much about it, Harry found himself brought into a sparsely decorated room, a rather large change from the largely spartan lifestyle he had led as a slave to the Dursleys.
Proving that all this was not a dream, McGonagall, lifted him into bed, without a change of clothes, as all Harry had was a gray moth ridden shirt that was ten sizes too large, an equally conditioned pair of gray pants, and scarred, blood stained shoeless feet.
Harry laid in bed, feeling safe for the first time as far as he could remember. Fatigue slowly wore him down into a restless sleep, with the sole exception of a vision of a girl, with fiery red hair, and chocolate brown eyes that looked through his soul. She was standing next to a boy with with messy jet black hair, olive green eyes. In the background behind the boy was an elegant and decorated symbol of a phoenix with dark blue flames. Words framed the image:
The most noble
and
Ancient house of Potter
Inscribed on the bottom in gold cursive letters.
Behind the girl was an equally decorated and elegant symbol of a Fox
Similar to the emblem behind the boy. The girl's also held text.
The noble
House of Weasley.
The nightmares that plagued Harry became a distant memory of the past, at least for tonight.
The professor momentarily watched over Harry as he slept. The boy has been through so much, for such a young age, has suffered beyond anything that a child should have to.
Broken in body. Shattered in Mind. Unbowed in soul.
At last he can begin to heal. But the road shall be long for Harry James Potter.
AN:
I would like to thank Lux Contritum for his hard work editing the story.
(*1)- The closest date I could find in my research for when the Leaky Cauldron was some time in the 1500's by one Daisy Dodderidge (if you have any more specific information, please let me know.)