Beta: RiddleSnape

Ner words in this chapter: 2,329

"Talking"

'Thinking'

–Parseltongue–

Thinking in 3rd person POV/Dream/Memory/Flashback/Others

Letter/Journal/Book/Newspaper

Time change/Date of time

Change of POV

Chapter I

–Harry Potter is Dead–

Tuesday, 01 July, 1997

HJP's POV

"There's someone here." Harry heard really far away. "Madam Pomfrey!"

"I'm coming."

Madam Pomfrey? Hadn't Snape killed him?

"It's just a young child, Madam."

Oh… so they didn't meant him. They probably meant someone else.

"A child? Here?" Madam Pomfrey was suddenly real close to Harry. "He's hurt." Harry felt hands trying to pick him up. "McLaggen, pick the lad up and bring him into the Infirmary wing. Be mindful of his injuries."

McLaggen? Seriously?

"Madam, these clothes aren't his."

Harry felt himself being picked up bridal style by Cormac McLaggen, with a huge robe - that got to his knees at the least - around himself. Wait… the child… did they meant Him?

"Just bring him into the Infirmary wing, I'll bring the clothes." Madam Pomfrey argued. "And you guys, keep looking for Harry Potter and any other who might been hurt by the Death Eaters, understood?"

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey." A group of students agreed as Cormac walked with Harry away.

"You're awake, aren't you?" Cormac asked. "Don't worry, Kid. The Death Eaters can't hurt you any longer. Madam Pomfrey is a Healer. She'll fix you up really nice, you'll see. No pain will be left behind."

Harry toned the bloody seventh-year Gryffindor out, gosh doesn't he get fed up with his own voice… ever?

Just when Harry's limit was about to get reached, a door was opened and then Harry was laid down on a bed. Finally!

–SsH–

Harry was relieved when whatever potion Madam Pomfrey gave him let him move around again. Being trapped on your own body was hell. Harry watched the Healer as she checked his chest.

"Can't believe he brought your scar all the way to your heart. Honestly, what was he thinking?" He heard her grumble under her lips.

"Was it dangerous?" Harry asked.

"Dangerous? Potter, the scar opened your skin as it moved all the way from your forehead towards your heart, it almost tore your throat open leaving you mute, it almost tore your eye leaving you blind and, most importantly, when it got to your heart you are lucky that it didn't tear your heart apart."

Harry's eyes grew as he watched the woman do a spell after spell on his lightning scar over his heart.

"But I'm…"

"You're fine, luckily. All things considered. But do remember, you used to have headaches every time the Dark Lord got close or got angry, correct?" Harry nodded confused. "Now that scar is linked to your heart. Instead of headaches it will give you something worse."

Harry glanced down at his chest.

"Can… can it give me heart attacks?"

"Yes."

Harry let his head fall back on the pillow behind him.

"Bloody hell."

"Watch your mouth, young Lad." The Healer reprimanded.

Harry closed his eyes. So besides having to worry about being in a child body again – what kind of spell was that anyway? Snape had had to know what spell he'd done on Harry; so why would've he do That spell? – he also had to worry about possible heartaches?

"Everything considered, Madam Pomfrey, honestly I'm entailed to some swearing." He argued.

–SsH–

"Poppy, are you certain?" Harry heard out of his cubicle, for Harry's safety Madam Pomfrey had just declared Harry Potter as dead. "Are you certain that the Death Eaters…?"

"I found his body, Minerva. It was him."

"First Albus, now Potter…"

Harry closed his eyes as his teacher's voice vacillated. He stood from the bed, made certain that his new clothes were well put, before he ran out of the safety of his cubicle and approached Madam Pomfrey, hugging her leg from behind.

"Auntie, is everything all right? Why is the lady crying? Is she hurt?" He asked, looking up towards Madam Pomfrey with big puppy eyes.

He couldn't believe he had just used Dudley's way of acting around Aunt Petunia on Madam Pomfrey. The Healer smiled down at him, putting a hand down on his head.

"She's just sad because someone she knows isn't any longer among us."

Harry tilted his head towards the side and turned towards Professor McGonagall, approaching her slowly.

"Don't cry, Ma'am." He pleaded.

Professor McGonagall smiled down at him.

"And who might you be?"

"I'm Harry Potter, of course." Harry argued, nose in the air.

That did make McGonagall supress a laugh and a hiccup at the same time.

"Of course you are, Potter. How could I forget?" She argued and, to Harry's most mortification, he was pulled into a hug.

Harry returned towards his bed and sat on it, after that. Madam Pomfrey approached with a small smile, sitting before him on a chair. Harry huffed and looked the other way, blushing.

"It's not like she believed me." He argued.

"I know and I'm not here to reprimand you. It was a nice thing that you did. Even though she deserves the truth, we also need people to believe it so You Know Who doesn't came after you." Harry nodded, not arguing. He knew that already. He might look like 6, but he was still 16-year-old, thank you very much. "You still need a name."

Harry looked at the Healer, before sighing.

"No, there's no need. I will be going into hiding anyway. I have a job to do. A job left on me by the Headmaster himself." Harry looked sadly towards the necklace on his bedside table. "A job that I need to finish if I want to defeat Voldemort."

"Even so, a name would be nice."

Harry shrugged.

"Harry is my name."

"No, Harry was your name. Your new alias can't be Harry; it calls too much attention."

Harry grumbled under his breath. Bloody Healer.

"Fine, so James."

"Jacob it is." Harry looked at the Witch at once. "Everyone knows that Harry Potter is Harry James Potter. Jacob is a version of James, a lot easier to pass without calling attention."

Harry massaged his eyebrows.

"Fine. Jake it is."

–SsH–

Saturday, 05 July, 1997

Harry entered Black Manor with a sad look, after Madam Pomfrey finally gave him the release from the Infirmary wing. This place brought back sad memories, but was the only place that was safe and that he could stay at while he hunted for the Horcruxes.

"Kreacher!" The house elf appeared before Harry with a condescending look. "Prepare me a bedroom. Get me clothes my size, in the latest fashion. Kreacher, I also mean Muggle clothes, not just robes." The house elf tried to refuse but the magic kept him from doing that, Harry didn't like having to order him but it was necessary. "And, Kreacher, please clean the house and go groceries shopping." He added before the house elf popped away.

When Kreacher disappeared Harry glanced at his wand with a sad look. Even though it belonged to him, he officially couldn't have a wand until he was 11-year-old. Harry started climbing the stairs, only for a door towards his left to open as he passed by. Peeking inside, he saw a beautiful child's bedroom in light green tones.

"Young Master's bedroom. Muggle clothes and Wizardry robes inside." Kreacher grumbled under his breath before he disappeared again.

Harry looked at the Slytherin bedroom. It was actually quite nice. He entered and approached the closet, opening it. He immediately traded clothes from his old shirt - that looked like a dress on this small body - into some blue jeans and a grey shirt.

"Kreacher, I'm going to the bank. I'll be back later." He said into the air, as he turned around to leave the bedroom again.

Harry barely gave a step before Kreacher appeared before him, pulling at his own ears.

"Kreacher don't want to. No, it doesn't. Kreacher don't want to obey. Kreacher don't know who new Young Master is. Kreacher heard Master Harry Potter's dead. Kreacher thought Mistress Narcissa Malfoy was new Mastress. Not this Young Wizard." Harry felt pity for the house elf, but before he could say anything the house elf released his own ears and looked at Harry. "Kreacher can't let Young Master walk around alone. No it can't. House elves have to watch over Young Masters until Young Masters are old enough to walk around alone, when Masters can't go out with Young Masters. One house elf for Young Master and one house elf for house. Too old for both Kreacher is."

Harry hummed.

"I know two house elves, maybe they can help?" Harry asked. "And my name is Jake, shortened from Jacob."

"Which house elves Young Master Jake thinking is?" The house elf asked and Harry saw a plate name appear at the door of the bedroom with his new name.

"Dobby and Winky." Just like he'd expected, at saying the names both house elves appeared.

Kreacher looked at the two house elves with a sneer. Dobby looked around confused and then at Harry, he stayed a long moment looking at Harry until finally his eyes grew wide. Harry raised one hand which was enough to shut him up.

"Young Master Jake wants Dobby and Winky as house elves, yes he does." Kreacher told the two house elves.

Dobby nodded at once.

"Dobby really nice clean. Winky good child-caretaker house elf is. Young Master Jake Sir."

Good, the house elf got the memo of who Harry was and that he couldn't talk about it – after all: only Dobby called Harry as 'Harry Potter Sir'. Harry turned towards Winky.

"Winky?" The house elf turned towards him. "Do you want to be my house elf? If you do, no more Butterbeer, do you understand?"

Winky nodded.

"Winky understands. Winky works for Young Master, Winky good house elf, Winky knows how to take care of Young Master. Winky done it before, it did."

Harry smiled and felt on his magic as the two house elves were claimed as his family house elves.

"So, Winky, I need to go into Gringotts to leave something there that can't be found on my person." Winky nodded and Harry turned towards the other two. "Dobby, Kreacher will teach you the house corners. You may not like it, Dobby, but Kreacher is the oldest and the house elf with more power in the house. Unless I order you anything that goes against it, you do what he says the way he says."

"As Young Master says Dobby will do." Dobby agreed, before he and Kreacher disappeared.

"Magical Outside without robe can't Young Master go." Winky argued.

Harry glanced at the female house elf, only to see that she already had picked up a robe out for him to dress over his muggle clothes. He wondered if he would've manage to persuade the house elf against the 'no robe ever' rule…

"It's summer. Too hot…"

Winky looked at the robe and then at Harry's closet, before she picked another one.

"Cotton robe. Not hot." Harry narrowed his eyes at the green robe. "Green not hot robe or black too hot robe." The house elf argued in an it's final tone.

Wow, who was she and what had she done with Winky?

Harry grabbed the robe and forced it down his head, Winky immediately helping him getting it straight down. It was on moments like these where house elves were the same height as him that he really couldn't avoid how small he was. He had to find a way back into his old body. He honestly hoped that Madam Pomfrey would find a cure. After that, Winky side-apparated him into the entrance on Gringotts, the two entered together – Winky two steps behind him but still visible. He approached a counter and waited for his turn. He could see the other Wizards and Witches sneaking glances at him from time-to-time, but didn't gave them even a glimpse. He knew that having Winky around him meant something special for Purebloods so he might as well act his part.

"Yes?" A voice asked that Harry couldn't see the owner, damn he was really small.

"Young Master Jake would've like to leave family heirlooms on Master's vault." Winky stated.

Two hands appeared at the corner of the counter and a head appeared peeking at the two.

"And does Mr Jake have his key?" Harry took it out and offered to the Goblin who looked at it and then at Harry. "Very well, all seems to be in order." The Goblin left the counter. "Follow me."

The two followed the Goblin towards the carts and Harry saw Winky shiver.

"You can stay here, Winky. I'll meet you when I return. Don't worry nothing is going to happen to me while down there, right?" He asked turning towards the Goblin.

"Of course not." A little uncertain, Winky left the cart and the Goblin turned it on, taking Harry into the Potter's vault. "So, Mr Potter, mind explaining what happened?" The Goblin asked as he left the cart and went to open the vault. "Not even the Gringotts anti-illusions worked on turning you back."

"Spell gone wrong." Harry argued with a shrug as the vault opened. "The AK just don't like working on me." He added as he took his wand, shrunken trunk and glasses out of his pocket.

The goblin picked them up and put them inside the vault.

"Do not worry, you can still use your accounts without the Ministry finding out you are using them." Harry nodded. "Need a new name?"

Harry shook his head.

"I'll be laying low, if I need I'll warn you."

(TBC)

Before anyone comments on the resemblance: this is the fic I wrote before Family Doesn't End in Blood. Tommyboy was based on this Harry.

Next Chapter: Ministry of Magic