Yo! Ages ago I received an anon review about why Number Four Privet Drive was between Numbers Two and Three. It isn't. One and Three are next to one another across the street, and Two and Four are next to one another on the other side. The houses are numbered in a sort of...diagonal manner. So one side of the street will have houses One, Three, Five, Seven and so on, and the other side will have houses Two, Four, Six, Eight and so on. That's how it is where I live. It might be different in other cities or countries or whatever. Thank you to all readers so far!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters...
Harry froze for a moment upon hearing those words, and then sighed deeply, as if in defeat. "Another betrayal, huh? I don't even know if it's worth getting upset any more," he muttered. "Spells and trackers... So these are always telling Dumbledore exactly where I am?"
"Not quite," replied Tom from next to him, shifting slightly. "I said 'approximate', not 'exact'."
The teen frowned. "Meaning?"
"If the old man were getting an exact location, then he would already know that you are not at Number Four at the moment. However, because it only gives him an approximate location, he merely knows that you are at Privet Drive."
"Oh. So he doesn't know which house I'm in or anything. Just the general area."
"Yes."
"But..." Harry paused, trailing off in thought. "Can you get rid of the spells and trackers?" He watched the three men exchange an odd look, and felt his heart sink. That couldn't be good. Looks like that never meant anything good, not for him at least.
"No," replied Tom, as Snape and Malfoy looked on. "Only the Goblins will be able to remove them, and if you leave this neighbourhood, the old man will know immediately. This is the only reason why I have not taken you away already, and instead, made a show of moving next door to you."
Harry didn't think that was quite true, but he decided not to question it. "Then what're we going to do?" he asked instead, really beginning to feel desperate. "I don't want to stay in Privet Drive."
Tom ran his long fingers through Harry's hair with a deep sigh, obviously having picked up on what he was feeling. "I know, Harry. I know. We will find a way, be sure of that."
Now Harry sighed too. He had long since gotten past wondering why all of this was happening to him, but it was still hard sometimes. Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he relaxed in his seat, which sent him leaning further against Tom, not that the man seemed to care. Right now, he didn't either.
I guess it's a good thing I never told anyone about anything all that important. Not that it matters, since they apparently went to tell Dumblefuck every single thing I did...
When the doorbell rang suddenly, everyone looked over, the teen's eyes widening. Who could that be? What if it was-
Tom got to his feet and glanced at him. "Stay here," he ordered. "Keep silent."
Harry nodded, suddenly feeling oddly chilly, watching the Dark Lord walk out of the room. He was worried that it could be Dumbledore or another Order member coming to look for him since he wasn't at Number Four. Then again, couldn't he just be over thinking this? Tom had just "moved in", right? Maybe this was a neighbour who'd come to greet him. Like his aunt had.
But it turned out to be neither.
Harry had been worrying for nothing, because the person at the door ended up being the mail carrier, delivering a package meant for the previous home owners, despite the fact they hadn't lived here for at least a year.
When the teen heard this, he began laughing almost hysterically. He noticed Tom, Snape, and Malfoy give him odd looks, but he barely paid attention to them. He was far too wound up right now, and sort of felt like he was going crazy. He laughed and laughed, finding it near impossible to stop once he had started. In fact, he laughed so hard, he choked and began to cough. Tom was by his side immediately, thumping him on the back carefully until he managed to stop and catch his breath. "Sorry," he gasped, breathing heavily.
The three men gave him an amused look, which was more shocking than anything else on Snape's part. Sobering, Harry leaned back in his seat, ignoring the others as he fell into thought.
So somehow, I need to get to Gringotts. But the old dick put all these tracking spells on me, and he'll know the second I leave Privet Drive. And apparently, only the Goblins can get rid of these things, which also means getting to Gringotts. But I can't do that with these fucking-ugh! Irritated, he sighed deeply.
There had to be some way around this. His uncle had always gone on about loopholes, hadn't he? Maybe there was something like that he could use to his advantage. His eyes shot open. "Bill!"
"I beg your pardon?" voiced Tom, sounding confused.
Malfoy didn't seem to understand either, but Snape's eyes dawned with understanding. "Of course," he breathed, drawing everyone's attention to him.
"Severus?"
"William Weasley," began the professor, obviously having realized where the teen's thoughts were leaning to. "The oldest, and perhaps, wisest of the Weasley children. He has been working at Gringotts since his graduation from Hogwarts. Up until recently, he was in Egypt, working at a branch there. He has, however, returned to 'help' the Order."
Harry nodded multiple times. "Sna-Professor Snape said I can trust Bill, and if anyone can help with all this Goblin stuff, then wouldn't it be him? I mean, he may not be able to get rid of the trackers, but maybe he can get a Goblin to come here to help instead?"
"It would be worth the attempt," said Malfoy, before anyone else could speak. "If Weasley is close with his co-workers, then they may listen to the request. Particularly if you consider who they would be doing this for. Goblins may not care much for the goings on of Wizards, but the Potters are a very old, and very wealthy family..." he trailed off knowingly.
The teen blinked. "Er, old and wealthy?"
The blond head whipped up immediately. "You-you do not know?"
"Know what?" questioned Harry curiously, quickly getting the feeling he was about to learn something else Dumbledore never wanted him to.
Malfoy stared at him. "Who is your magical guardian?" he questioned suddenly. "They should have explained everything to you when you were eleven years old."
"Um, I don't even know what that is."
"Oh, Salazar." The blond turned to the Potions Master. "Severus?"
Snape frowned for a moment, bringing a long, potion stained finger up to his chin. "Being his godfather, it should have been Black. However, as he was never freed from his status as a fugitive..." He broke off, thinking. "I would assume, seeing as nothing else has been declared, that his magical guardian is the Headmaster."
Malfoy sighed. "I should have expected this." He turned to the teen. "As Severus said earlier, you must see the Goblins. Not just for removing the trackers. This is your birth right, Harry. You deserve to know it."
Harry nodded hesitantly. There was clearly so much he was missing, and he didn't even know the half of it. "How are we going to contact Bill? I know I have Hedwig, but if I send him a letter, well, he's at G-Headquarters, isn't he? Everyone will see it." He had been about to say 'Grimmauld Place', and had changed his wording at the last second, unable to say the former because of the Fidelus surrounding it.
"Severus."
Snape nodded. "As you wish, my Lord." He got to his feet, and with a nod to them all, left the house.
Moments later, Tom dismissed Lucius as well, apologizing for keeping him for so long. Harry still found all this to be really weird. Being allowed to call the man 'Tom' was already strange enough, but seeing that he wasn't torturing anyone, or trying to kill him, or even giving speeches...
Once again alone with the Dark Lord, Harry wasn't sure what to say or do. He sat there on the couch, watching Tom, who had gotten to his feet, peer out the window. Neither said anything for a long time.
Harry drew his legs up, and wrapped his arms around his knees, ducking his head. He hoped Snape managed to get to Bill without any trouble, and he really hoped Bill was going to be able to help him. He sighed softly, wishing he could at least send a letter to the few he could trust. He hadn't heard from anyone for ages, and felt lonelier than ever.
It was hard to believe the two people he'd considered his best friends had turned out to be traitors. But then again, now that he really thought about it, was it actually that shocking of a revelation? The answer to that, was no. No it wasn't.
Ron and Hermione had always done things that he had found to be weird, but he just hadn't ever bothered to question them. He had always been worried that he would do or say something that would send then running away from him.
Harry lowered his forehead to his knees. Speaking of running, he wondered if he could trust Remus. He was the last real connection he had to his parents, and had always been kind to him, werewolf or not. If he found out Moony had been lying to him the whole time too, Harry wasn't sure he was going to be able to handle it.
Learning about select Weasleys and Hermione had been hard enough.
Tom was far from pleased. The more he learned about Harry, the more his fury built. The teen's abuse was as obvious as a neon sign, and he knew Albus Dumbledore knew exactly what was going on. But what about everyone else? What about the other professors? Severus, of course, had his reasons for not seeing a thing, but that could not be said for any of the others.
McGonagall was not just a professor, but Harry's Head of House, and the Deputy Headmistress, was she not? She was supposed to be keeping a close eye on all her Lions, and voicing concerns when noticing anything odd. While it was true that abused children generally did not end up in Gryffindor, it was known to happen at times, and she should have noticed what Harry was going through in his first year. She should have helped him in his first year.
And what of Pomfrey? As the school's Medi-Witch, she should have been the first to find what was happening to Harry. She was a licensed Healer! Surely she put the facts together! Harry was too skinny, was far shorter than he should have been, and had had so many injuries over the years. A single diagnostic charm would have revealed everything. Not to mention Glamour charms, which Harry had to have been wearing at school, would have interfered with them, and Pomfrey should have noticed that as well.
The man frowned slightly. How many times had Harry been in the Hospital Wing since starting at Hogwarts? At least once each year, right? And more than that at times as well. Had the Medi-Witch never used a diagnostic charm on the teen then? Or had she merely ignored what she had seen? His eyes narrowed. Or had Dumbledore done something to prevent her from saying or doing anything to help?
If he really thought about it, the latter was also the most likely. Dumbledore would do anything, no matter how cruel, to get what he wanted. They were all mere chess pieces to him, pieces to move and manipulate as he willed, and more often than not, they would never have the chance to say anything against him.
Sighing inaudibly, Tom glanced back at Harry, finding that he was resting his head on his knees, which he had drawn up to his chest. He looked to be lost in thought-thoughts that, judging by his expression, were not exactly happy. Long fingers dragged through soft raven hair, as red eyes fell shut.
Why had Harry needed to get caught up in this war? Why had he focused so much on that prophecy? He had always known they generally never came true, and he definitely didn't believe in any of that Divination shit anyway. So then-
Tom's eyes snapped open. Why had he been so focused on the prophecy? Before that, everything had been fine, things had been going in his favour, contrary to popular belief. But then he had learned of the prophecy, and everything had gone to hell. It was as if he had lost his mind, desperate to find this child that had been spoken of, and end their life. Why? Why?
A sudden sharp, piercing pain had the man reaching up to clutch his head. Gritting his teeth, he fought against it, and continued trying to remember just how everything had been ruined all those years ago. Something was wrong with all this. Something was most definitely wrong.
"Tom? Tom, are you okay?"
The small hands gripping his shoulders, coupled with the sound of Parseltongue, were what brought Tom back to focus, and he opened his eyes, unsure of when they had fallen shut in the first place. He found himself starting into concerned green eyes, and he blinked, discovering that the pain had been so intense that it had brought him to his knees.
And then he realized that the fog had lifted. He was finally able to recall what had occurred to destroy everything he had worked so hard to achieve. He remembered everything.
Still on his knees and gripping his head, Tom began to chuckle-a low, dangerous sound that had Harry jolting back in apprehension. But he barely noticed. Crimson irises glowing viciously, he trained them on the cautious looking teen.
"Come, Harry. It seems we have much more to discuss."
Looking forward to reviews! Laterz!
