Disclaimer: Though I hope to have characters of my own to write about someday, this is NOT that day. So if you don't want to read of my writing about other people's characters, there's a back button somewhere on the screen. Use it.
This is AU in that Harry meets the twins in London, rather than his first Weasley meeting being Ron on the train. Though I've plotted out through the second book's worth of story line, I'm not sure HOW AU it will get yet, but there are already key differences planned.
What if?
In the days following the petrification of Mrs. Norris, Harry found himself surprised by the school's reaction. Sadly, this was not a pleasant surprise, and it revealed to him that even though his opinion had dropped from the year before, he apparently still had too high a view of his fellow students. More often than not, when he passed a Gryffindor in the halls, they hissed at him in poor renditions of cats. Hufflepuffs shied away, and some even took to reciting their family histories.
When he asked what the reason was, it was explained who the 'Heir' had been in the message. He was also informed of whom the general belief listed the Heir as. Flabbergasted, Harry grumbled to himself about how unbelievable it was. They wanted to call him the Boy-Who-Lived, but he was still apparently capable of such cruelty to animals.
Thus, he felt compelled to research the phenomenon, in hopes of proving beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he could not be the Heir. Luckily, this didn't require much more time than setting Granger to the task, and it kept her off his case about wanting to help him and the twins at the same time. Afterwards, Harry sometimes felt guilty, when he saw the girl lugging huge tomes around, but then he remembered the stacks in front of him, and shook himself back out of it. After all, she had volunteered.
Within the time it took the Gryffindors to have their match with Hufflepuff, Harry had more or less finished the initial stages of research for the Charms project. He'd found mentions of all the possible duplicating charms available, and had enough to write a paragraph or two about each. In fact, he had a draft of the paper written, and was about to turn it in to Flitwick for corrections. At the same time, he'd managed to get notes from the twins- another reason he was happy he'd talked them into taking them the year before- about transfiguring objects to resemble living things.
It seemed a natural progression to him to move into actually transfiguring the inanimate to the animate, but he didn't have the research to back it up. Someone, Harry suspected a Third Year Ravenclaw, had borrowed all of the Transfiguration texts that specified the process in detail enough for his essay. The poor Slytherin certainly couldn't write in the generalizations, because McGonagall would definitely challenge him to back it up with facts, and while the twins knew it, their convoluted explanations were enough to send him back to his own Common Room in fits of pique and laughter alternatingly
As he was grumbling to himself about the lack of information about Transfiguration in the library, Harry was startled almost off the chair he sat in when a book was tossed to the table in front of him.
"Potter, don't just rely on the twins or the library," Derrick smirked, "Remember, you have valuable resources in the form of your own Housemates. We can help with homework, if you provide the right trade."
"That's why I've been leaving you lot alone. I don't always know what to trade for and it's better to know ahead, than to let you set the terms." Harry barely glanced at the book.
"Well, in this instance, I'm not giving you a choice." Derrick sat across from the student three years his junior, and flipped open the book he'd dropped to the table, "I checked this out from under that Ravenclaw's nose the other day, and on top of that, I have notes from when I was in that year."
"It's not a Second Year assignment," Harry jotted a note down from another book, about certain magical creatures being allowed custody of children under special circumstances. This was also nicked from a stack in front of a Ravenclaw, and Harry hoped that what the older student didn't know wouldn't hurt him.
"I'd heard that it was Third or better. That's why I gave you my notes, not Flint's or Bletchley's, or Bole's. Warrington doesn't share his notes for anything less than total shut outs in Quidditch, and the rest don't have Ravenclaw parents breathing down their backs." Derrick chuckled to himself.
"So what price are you asking for?" Harry asked as he resolved to never ask Warrington for notes.
"You told us what your relatives thought about you, and where you stayed before you got your letter. What I want to know is why the Headmaster hasn't done anything about it." Derrick asked.
Briefly, Harry toyed with the idea of taking the help and running, as the bargain was most definitely in his favor. The traits that had made the hat consider other houses, however, reared their heads, and Harry had to shake his head, "That's not a fair bargain to you, Derrick. I have no clue. I don't even know if he cares. After all, he had to have known, considering the first letter was addressed right. The ones after that were also addressed right, though my room changed after the first."
"That," Derrick seemed to have an 'ah-ha' moment, and then Harry saw what might have been his first genuine smile out of an older student of Slytherin, "There's a book that details all of the children slated to attend Hogwarts, and a spell is attached to it. It takes the letters Professor McGonagall has to sign, and automatically posts them, according to the signatures of the witches and wizards in the book. Sometimes, like when it's a Mud- er, Muggleborn, a secondary missive is sent out, for the Professors to introduce themselves a bit better, but other than that, the Headmaster probably didn't even know you lived where you did."
"You're sure of that?" Harry was skeptical.
"I've not seen the book, but that's what I was told when I was a first year. There were apparently some Ravenclaw First Years who asked, and it left our Prefects of that year having to explain what the fuss was about." Derrick leaned back in his chair.
"So, is that payment enough?" Harry peered at the older boy from the corner of his eyes.
"For now. I say, use the book and notes, and if you want any more, go find the Headmaster and actually ask why he never checked up on you or anything, and then get back to me." With that, the older boy stood and left the room.
Trying not to give away how desperate he was for information for his Transfiguration assignment, Harry gingerly, though quickly pulled the loaned text to himself, and skimmed it. Shortly after, he knew why Derrick was content with the price paid for that information. The book went over details Harry already did know, only in a little more detail. The notes themselves, covered specific instances, and thus were too specific. Rolling his eyes, Harry mentally- for once- grumbled about how he couldn't get a happy medium.
Giving up for the time being on his Transfiguration research -of course, after taking all the notes he could- Harry left the Common Room for the Headquarters he and the twins still worked from. He wasn't sure whether the twins would be there or not, but if they weren't, the younger boy wouldn't complain. He'd take the opportunity to argue with the Marauder's Map.
Once he'd first arrived at the school, he challenged the map about the will, and that had caused the quartet to argue amongst themselves in what looked to Harry to be gibberish. When they calmed down, the most volatile of the four, Padfoot, had written about how they didn't know, as the map had been finished long before they'd have thought of making a will for the entire group. He'd gone on to say that for Harry to have found such a thing, however, he'd have to either be related to one of them, or friends with someone who was. Ironically, Padfoot seemed inclined to believe Harry might be a cousin of his.
Occasionally, he'd wake the map for pointers on his own maps- still incomplete, but progressing- thanks to Mister Moony. Every so often, especially after the rest of the school particularly irked him about the 'Heir' business, Harry would pick on the particularly stubborn members of the Marauders. He had a lot of fun prodding Mister Padfoot and Mister Wormtail into nonsensical writings. Partly because he knew they were playing along. They still didn't like that he was a Slytherin, but he liked to think he'd just about gotten them to the point of not hating him just for that fact.
Luckily for his mindset that day, the twins were in the hidden room, and Harry finally remembered to ask his big question before any other. His problem was that he had so many projects in the air, he'd ask about one of those, forgetting he really wanted to know the answer to another, and would wind up rushing to class and never asking the one he'd wanted to know from the middle of the summer.
"Why exactly did you two come after me?" Harry also got a thrill from making the twins jump three feet into the air, as it was usually the other way around.
"During the summer?" Fred blinked, recovering from the surprise first.
"When else?" Harry drawled.
"We got your letter asking about wizarding custody, and then you never responded to our letter." George shrugged.
"At the time, we didn't know that a house elf had held your mail, but we did worry about no response to our questions." Fred blinked, "Speaking of which, we still don't have those answers. Not quite."
"Why exactly were you asking about whether or not a witch or wizard would have custody of a child in the Muggle world as well?" George finished.
"You know what it was like when you found me at the Dursley's right?" Harry waited for the nods before continuing, "Well, that was actually better than it's been for most of my remembered life."
"They didn't hit you or anything, did they?" Fred's face seemed like to turn redder than his hair.
"No more than your mum does you," Harry shook his head and waved his hands in the air, "It was more a case of telling me things that weren't true. Only, I didn't know they weren't true 'til Hagrid showed up, trying to get my letter of acceptance to me."
"So they kept your mail from you, locked you up, tried to keep you from attending Hogwarts," George listed.
"What else did they do?" Fred hissed.
"Er," Harry blinked, "I thought this was going to be about why you came after me, not about what my relatives thought of me."
"You want custody of you revoked from their names?" In a rare moment, George reminded Harry of Percy, whom the younger boy was beginning to think he should have approached with this.
"I think we need to take this to Percy," Fred nodded to this twin, and the two promptly cupped hands under Harry's arms, and hoisted the smaller student into the air in that manner. They hefted him to the entrance to Gryffindor's Common Room, and then George promptly spoke up.
"Ma'am," he spoke to the portrait, that of a woman wrapped in a diaphanous pink gown, smothered in lace, frills and flowers. Harry now knew why he'd overheard Gryffindors talking about 'the Fat Lady,' and resolved to keep his own thoughts to himself. She looked rather like he thought Aunt Petunia might, if she were as big as Vernon, or even Dudley.
"Yes dear, what did you need?" her gaze strayed to the smaller student standing between the two redheads, and she flinched and gasped, "A Slytherin? I do hope you aren't intending to let him into the Common Room, that would certainly get my frame removed to another location!"
Before Harry could ask why, the twins reassured her they only wanted their elder brother to come out for a chat, and said Prefect was shortly after clambering his way through. Harry caught a glimpse of the colors of flame all over the room, and shivered in the cool air. When the twins let him go, he was returning to his own Common Room, and curling up in front of the fire.
"Fred, George, what is this about?" Percy caught sight of Harry, "Hello, Potter, do you know what these two are up to?"
"Harry told us some about his home life, Perce." Fred leaned toward his elder brother.
"And?" Percy stopped peering at the younger boy and met the twin's gaze.
"We think dad needs to know, to file it," George added.
"Wait, I think Professor Snape already has filed it," Harry shook his head.
"At the least, we can look into it," Percy shrugged, "Shall we?"
Feeling distinctly unsettled, Harry was half led, half frog-marched to the office door of his own Head of House. There, the eldest Weasley in the school knocked, and all three redheads stood back a pace.
Briefly, the youngest in the group toyed with the thought of dashing off. As if knowing the thoughts scattered in front of it, the door swept open, revealing the Potions Master. Scowling, he stepped back and allowed the quartet in to his office.
"What is the problem, Misters Weasley and Potter?" Snape drawled.
"Harry asked us why we came to rescue him during the summer," Fred started.
"So we told him, and learned what his treatment at that place was usually like," George continued.
"And when we started talking about filing it, he mentioned that you might already have done so," Percy finished, and Harry wondered if he'd survive the backlash if he mentioned the twins and Percy as convincing triplets.
"He reported to me that he didn't feel disposed to returning at the end of last year," Snape stood in front of his desk. "I have filed the paperwork concerning that. Mister Potter also reported to me the retrieval from his abode during the summer. I have since been apprised of factors of his life there, but have not completed the paperwork sent to me to initiate an investigation of these events. The house was observed, I was told, during the summer, but I have not been informed of their findings."
"When?" Harry blinked, "I never noticed anyone watching the house!"
"That's the entire point, Mister Potter, you aren't supposed to notice. That's how they get an unbiased observation of the situation." The professor smirked as he pulled a stack of papers from his desk.
"Well, with the information we got from Harry," Fred pointed his thumb at the younger boy.
"We think we can add to your file," George nodded.
"I'm not needed any longer, am I?" Percy stepped back towards the office door.
"All three of you should write down your impressions of Mister Potter when you encountered him at the end of the summer, and what you saw in Surrey, if you were there. If you would, Misters Weasley, have your youngest brother write one as well." Snape dismissed all four boys with a sweep of his hand.
More than a little befuddled, Harry tried to pull his thoughts back together. Pausing a moment, he looked up at the three redheads, "What was all that? I just thought I'd get a simple answer."
"Harry," Fred's smile seemed stretched thinly over his face.
"Situations such as those are never simple. Not for the individuals immediately involved, nor for those who involve themselves," Percy shook his head gently.
"We can only hope that what we add to Professor Snape's report will get you out from under their roof as early as the Winter holidays," George shrugged.
"Oh," Harry blinked, "I didn't intend to return for the winter holidays. I'd already told Professor Snape that."
"Even more time for the paperwork to get filed properly," Percy nodded approvingly, "Now you should focus on your assignments, and possibly on deciding who you would like to take you in come the summer."
After the eldest of the four left, the other three relocated back to their base, and puttered around for a bit. As the twins pulled forward a text from Charms, and muttered over a spell, Harry couldn't help but interrupt.
"People just can't break out of that one, it freezes their magic," Fred grumbled.
"They wouldn't teach it to Fourth Years if that were true," George argued.
"Why then, does Hermione know it already?" Fred raised an eyebrow.
"She's made a point of learning everything she can, whether she should know it or not," George mirrored his twin.
"Are you two talking about the Freezing Charm?" Harry blinked.
"What?" Fred whipped his head around to look at the Second Year.
"No, that's a Second Year charm, drops a body's temperature so that all they can think of is the cold," George waved a hand in the air.
"We're looking at the Frozen Charm," Fred tugged the book from under his twin's grasp and pushed it to the smaller boy, who'd walked over to their table.
Reading the words used to cast the spell, Harry remembered what Lockhart had cast upon him in the first class. The words didn't match. Quickly pulling his text out and searching for the Freezing Charm, Harry found that the words of that spell didn't match either.
"Harry?" George was peering at the younger boy warily.
"Lockhart cast a charm on me in the first class, used me as the example," Harry muttered as he compared the words of both spells, "He said it was what Granger cast in class to freeze the Cornish Pixies in place, but if you two are right, I should have been able to break that one."
"You're breaking spells?" Fred blinked, "They don't teach that until Fifth Year, according to Percy, Charlie and Bill."
"When you have a teacher casting the spells on you and leaving you like that, you learn quickly how to concentrate on breaking them," Harry hissed.
"Lockhart's been doing that?" George matched the smaller boy for hissing.
"Wasn't it bad enough that Quirrell did?" Fred groaned.
"Who?" Harry's head started to throb.
"That's right, you don't remember actual Defense classes from last year, or the teacher. You ought to talk to Madam Pomfrey about that. Or at least Snape. Though if you talk to him, I'd wait a day." George suggested.
Harry let his head sink to the table, "I'm tired of not knowing who that guy was, what he did, or why I don't remember the Leaving Feast from last year. I want to know why I'm mad at Granger, and why I don't trust the Headmaster."
"I remember hearing that Quirrell cast spells on you in class, used you as the test dummy for them, to show everyone else." George scratched his chin.
"The end of the year, we all rushed to the Left Hall on the third floor, and ran across Fluffy just before the professors did. We helped to rescue Dean, Seamus, and Ron after they dashed in after Quirrell," Fred rubbed his nose, "but after George and I took Ron to the Infirmary with Madam Pomfrey, we don't know what happened."
"Sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night, having seen teeth and lots of blood," Harry took his glasses off his nose, and rubbed his eyes, "It's a counter, I suppose, to the dreams of green flashes and screams."
"You have wicked weird dreams, Harry," Fred shook his head.
"You really ought to talk to Madam Pomfrey, and do it soon," George repeated.
"Okay, okay, fine, I will," Harry put his glasses back on, and put his notes and book away, "In fact, I'll go do that now."
"Don't you have Quidditch practice about now?" Fred interrupted.
Blinking, Harry looked at the Time Charm clock face and paled, "Oh boy, Flint's gonna rake me over the coals!"
Dashing as fast as he could, Harry ran for the Pitch. He hoped to be only a little bit late, as every minute late, would be a lap around the Pitch, on foot. Since the Pitch was the size of a football field, Harry really wasn't looking forward to that.
Finally reaching the locker room, the boy changed into his practice uniform quickly, but made sure to fasten things properly, as that would get him into as much trouble as being the three minutes late he was at that point. Though, the locker room being empty almost made the boy stop and think. If he was only three minutes late, the rest of the team would have still been in the locker room. So either he was even more late than that, or he'd been pranked by the twins.
Walking out onto the field, Harry looked around. For a few seconds, the brunet grumbled at the twins' prank. He was plotting his revenge when he heard the rest of the team starting to enter the field from the school, evidently on their way to the locker room. Then Harry remembered that the trio had set their Time Charms to be ten minutes fast in their headquarters for the sake of getting to places on time. It was a decision they'd made that year, having been late a few too many times for their own tastes the year before.
The rest of the team paused and looked at the boy oddly for a minute. He followed them into the dressing room, and leaned against a locker while they chattered.
"So, Potter, why were you so early to practice?" Bole asked.
"I was working on a project in a room where I'd charmed the Time Charm to be ten minutes fast. I cast it and thought I was late," Harry grumbled.
"I'd rather you were early than late, Potter," Flint snickered.
After the rest of the team changed, they reconvened on the Pitch, and started warm-ups. Stretching out muscles and working on flexibility, loosening up, and psyching themselves out for practice kept them all occupied for roughly fifteen minutes. Then Flint called for everyone to take to the air, splitting into two teams. Harry and Malfoy were the respective Seekers, and they'd play like they were facing the Gryffindors.
After a little searching, Harry distracted himself with thoughts of the rest of the school. He turned upside down on the broom as he hovered in place, and muttered to himself, "Why is it that they hail me as something special and think I'm so wonderful until something like this happens? They call me the Boy-Who-Lived, and then all of a sudden I'm evil and sneaky, and, and-"
The chuckle to his left reminded Harry he had an audience. Bletchley, from his position near the goalpost Harry was suspended in front of, asked, "Potter, you're still worried about that?"
"I don't get it, is all, Bletchley," Harry shook his head, then righted himself. Holding a little tighter to the broom, as the blood rushed from the top of his head to distribute itself properly along his extremities, Harry closed his eyes briefly. Looking at the older boy, he then continued, "Do they actually want to make me hate them? Do they want me to join Voldemort?"
With a shuddering hiss, Bletchley hissed, "Don't say his name, Potter, you don't want to know about the trouble you can cause for everyone else."
"Eh?" Harry blinked, "I'd heard that people were afraid of his name, but, trouble to cause?"
"Yes, Potter," Bletchley, forgoing manners that seemed otherwise drilled into the other Slytherins, rolled his eyes at the smaller boy, "I heard that his servants used to use his name in secret, when not faced with him. It made him mad, so he dreamt up a spell to monitor their use of his name, and then visited curses upon those who had the nerve. Hence he's called 'The Dark Lord,' 'You-Know-Who,' 'Our Lord,' 'Master,' and all that, but never, well, you know."
"Oh," Harry blinked some more. Then he spotted the Snitch that had been released for practice. The main team was playing the reserves, and though the stress wasn't the same, Harry was still competing with Malfoy for the Snitch. "When practice is over, would you talk some more about it?"
"Give me reason to, and I will," Bletchley called out as Harry zipped off in pursuit of the Snitch.
After practice, Harry puzzled over what he could use as incentive for the older boy to continue explaining why people refused to use Voldemort's name. He never quite dreamed up anything, and was more than a little distracted. The few times he pulled his thoughts together, he saw that more than half the school had noticed his distraction, and he would have wagered that they were expecting another attack to take place shortly.
Sighing to himself, Harry resolved to go to bed early. Practice had been exhausting, and they had a game the next day, bright and early. Or at least early. Who knew if the sun would grace Hogwarts with its presence?
After some reconsideration, I have retooled chapters nine through eleven, and this is what you get. It's only a little longer than before, but it ties up a few things, and leaves a few more lines open. I do intend to deal with the memory issue soon, and the custodial one as well. My guess is that Harry's got one more summer with the Dursleys though, at the least. From there, who knows? I had someone mention that Snape seems to be telling Harry to keep his head down. I'm sorry if that seems like a bad idea, but my Snape is operating under the thought that the best way to get the boy out from under the Dursley's loving hands is to act perfectly legally with it. That means filing the paperwork and actually waiting for it to be processed. Of course, should he actually get to hear what Harry says happened…
The Frozen Charm is my attempt at fixing a problem with the Freezing Charm as pointed out to me. Hope that makes up for the mistake. I rather like it though, so even if it doesn't, I might just leave it.