He was born in hiding, during war in a large, two story wooden cabin in a forest that had been in the Potter family for centuries. His father had been born here. In the distance, one could hear what sounded like cracks and explosions hitting something.
The ear-piercing cries of a newborn baby filled the maternity room of the ancient Potter mansion.
"It's a boy! A strong, healthy boy." A woman in a white uniform dress with a crest on her hat said, proudly. With the wave of a stick and a few words in yet another new language, the baby was cleaned up. She wrapped him up in an unnaturally warm, blood-red blanket with golden lions prancing around on it.
The midwife handed the baby to Lily. "Congratulations, Mrs. Potter." She turned to acknowledge her husband. "Mr. Potter."
The baby quieted and stared up at the woman whose arms he had been placed in, mesmerized by her emerald green eyes and her flowing red hair.
"Thank you, Miss Doula." Lily replied, gazing into the bright green eyes of her baby boy, completely enraptured with him.
Merlin knew where he got his wild, spiky mop jet black hair from – not even James' dark brown hair was that dark.
With the wave of her wand, and a swish and a flick, Ms. Doula summoned a birth certificate with the date, time, and parents' names already on it. "I'm terribly sorry, but we've got to hurry. There's no telling how long the wards will hold. What would you like to name him, Lord Potter?"
"Harry James Potter." A man with brown hair and blue eyes replied from the other side of the bed, standing beside his wife and newborn son. "After my grandfather, Henry."
"After the Wizengamot judge? Splendid choice." And so with another flick of the wand, it automatically penned the name on the birth certificate and signed it.
"Congratulations, Lord Potter, Mrs. Potter, on the birth of your baby boy. I will take my leave now," Ms. Doula said, waving her wand and directing all of the medical equipment to pack itself up. "Your house elf should be able to take care of everything else."
James nodded. "Thank you, ma'am. Good day." He moved to his wife and son's side and summoned a red blanket with lions prancing around on it to wrap Harry up in. It was dreadfully cold in here. They had avoided lighting a fire in the fireplace so as not to give away their location to the death eaters trying to break in outside.
However, when Ms. Doula went to apparate out and back to St. Mungos, it didn't work. "Huh?"
Surprised and a tad flustered, she tried again. "St. Mungos!" But it didn't work.
James turned around, mildly alarmed. "You can't get out?"
"No, my Lord, I can't. Can I borrow your floo?" She was becoming increasingly frantic, losing the forced professional voice she'd had all throughout the labor and naming. No one wanted to die.
James shook his head. "I'm sorry, but we had it locked down several months ago when we got the news we would be targeted. Just in case. Don't worry, I'll get us all out of here."
He looked back at his wife and son, filled with a paternal sense of love and responsibility he was only just getting used to. Everything changed when you became a parent. It wasn't all about you or even you and the love of your life anymore.
"Ms. Doula, get the guards in here." He ordered, his voice stern and every bit acting the head of house Potter that he was. "Holly!"
With a pop, a bony little house elf in a yellowed pillowcase appeared. "Yes? How can Holly be helping?"
Ms. Doula ran to the locked and warded door and banged on it. "Guards, guards! Come in, quickly! Quickly!"
Not a moment later, two aurors rushed in. "What's the matter? Is the missus and the baby alright?" asked the older one, while the younger one relocked and rewarded the door. The wards hadn't gone off so nobody had broken in.
"What's it look like outside?" James asked, demandingly.
"They've breached the front door and are currently fighting to get up the heavily guarded grand staircase."
"Damnit." James cursed. "They've set up anti-apparition wards, so we can't get out. Now that Harry's been born, we've got to move. Its not safe here. They're too close."
Holly approached him, wringing hands nervously. "Holly can help, Master James."
"Yes, of course. That's why I called you. We'll just have to be quicker than I wanted. No time to pack anything up."
Everything of vital importance to the family's history had already been sent to their Gringotts vault just in case. But they'd be leaving with just the clothes on their backs and Lily's purse.
"There's no telling if the Order is safe or not, if this place has already been breached. I don't want to apparate us into the middle of a battle. What about the Weasleys? Molly and Arthur. They won't like it but they would never turn us away."
"Lily, I want you and Harry to go with Holly first." He said, turning to his wife and daughter. "Then me and Ms. Doula will follow, and finally the guards. Is that alright, Holly?"
He turned to the elf and it nodded its head furiously. "Yes of course, Holly will do it! Anything for the Potter family." She had served the family well for decades.
Lily sat up and made to stand, supported by her husband, cradling her baby in her arms. "James, hand me my purse and Crookshanks." She asked.
She was exhausted, but she couldn't leave Harry's things behind or the family cat. She would never forgive herself if the cat was left to die. He had been her graduation present.
James huffed in frustration, wanting them to leave quickly, but retrieved her things anyways. "Ready now, dear?"
Within five minutes the entire family, the midwife, and the guards were all safely at the Burrow. They were decidedly uninvolved, citing their many young children at home. Arthur worked around the clock to feed them all.
Fifteen months later, Severus appeared just outside of the gate of the Potter's home with a faint pop. The wards had gone off and he'd apparated as quickly as he could, just beyond the apparition wards. It was surreal, looking at the house as it was now. The entire second floor had been blown out, like some muggle bomb had gone off.
With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Severus realized it was Harry's nursery. Lily!
Severus opened the gate and ran up to the Potter's safehouse with a rush of panic. No she can't be-
A sinking feeling in his gut so strong it was nauseating filled him when he didn't feel the familiar pulse of the fidelus wards permitting him entry into the home.
Oh no.
The house was deafeningly silent. It was quite foreboding, walking into the front foyer of a house that was once so filled with life – a happy baby, doting parents, laughing marauders, and himself in some dark corner pretending he was more aggravated to be there than he actually was. But there was none of that now. The entire house was dark, as if the electricity had gone out, but it was a magical home so that wasn't possible.
Normal magic only stops working if its casters are dead.
Lily. The children. They can't be dead. Anyone but Lily, please!
His heart heavy, unshed tears springing to his eyes, he ran straight for the second floor. Fearful for the lives of Lily and her son and his unborn goddaughter, he broke out into a run, darting past James' body and darting up the stairs, strewn with bits of wall and parts of picture frames, and straight into Harry's nursery. The moment he walked in, he saw it. Just in the doorway was another body, one he never expected to see – Lord Voldemort. The black-haired, brown-eyed, pale-skinned dark lord who had made his very name a curse, who killed countless magicals and mundanes for the past decade, was dead, crumbled to the floor. His wand, 13 ½ inch yew wood with a phoenix feather core, lay discarded on the ground.
"Sev'us!" A small voice startled him. Harry?
He looked up to the boy's crib, and the boy was standing up, clutching the rail and a red Gryffindor lion blanket with one grubby hand and reaching out to him with the other.
He was covered in ashes, insulation, and dust, and a few pieces of rubble had fallen into his crib. When he looked at the toddler he could have sworn that the boy's eyes were red with a single black dot in them each, but the next moment they were gone. Faded back to emerald green.
"Sev'us!" The boy jumped impatiently and made a grabbing motion at him. It shouldn't have been a surprise to him, but he wasn't crying. He never cried, not since he learned to talk and verbalize what he needed.
"Up! Pisky!" The toddler demanded. Blood ran down the boy's face and a cut had been carved on the boy's forehead.
A laceration? How? Did something hit him? He can't possibly have been hexed. A hex from the Dark Lord wouldn't leave a mere jagged cut. He glanced around the room. It looks as if a spell rebounded. Only a spell reflected back at its caster would cause such damage. But how? The killing curse is unblockable.
It wasn't until he began to approach Harry that he saw it. Lily.
Tears sprang to his eyes and he fell to his knees beside her. She was collapsed, crumbled to the floor in front of Harry's crib as if she'd simply fallen over and her soul left her, without resistance at all. Surely the baby in her womb, still growing, was dead as well.
I'm so sorry, Lily. I'm so sorry. I failed the both of you. All of you.
He'd been this child's godfather. It had been his way of apologizing to Lily for selling them out - pledging on his very magic to do everything he could to protect Lily, Harry, and the baby. James had resisted and it wasn't until they found out the baby's gender that he finally agreed.
They hadn't even thought of a name yet. They had ideas but no name.
He could have never predicted that Lily would be targeted when he reported the prophecy to the Dark Lord, much less this. Anything but this. He cried even harder, clutching Lily's lifeless body close to him as he realized that he would now be responsible for naming Lily's unborn daughter.
Merlin, this can't be happening. What have I done?
"Sev'us." Harry said quietly, trying to get his attention. "Up, Sev'us. Pisky."
Reluctantly, he put Lily down and went to the boy, picking him up with practiced ease. If it wasn't Harry, it was Draco.
"Mummy? Mummy korosa?" the child asked, pointing and looking at him with confused emerald green eyes.
Blood was still dribbling from his forehead wound. He'll need to go to St. Mungos.
He didn't trust himself to reply and keep composure, so he stayed silent. Drawing his wand, and ignoring Harry's murmur of "mos" in anticipation, he waved it, thought, and cried again, and said expect patronum.
A doe emerged from his wand and Harry pointed and smiled at it, following its gaze, mesmerized as it pranced around the room. "Deer!" he cried. He knew the name of his mother's patronus.
Severus sent a quick message to Albus and then set Harry down beside Lily. "Accio diaperbag." He said. Harry couldn't stay here, it wasn't safe. If he couldn't protect Lily and her baby, he had to at least protect Harry. It felt surreal, numb really, packing up a bag for Harry. As if the whole thing was a bad dream and he'd wake up any second and Lily would be alive, arguing with James again over whether to give the baby a Potter girl name or an Evans flower name, or Sirius would bound in, overexcited for Harry and take him out to play on his racing broom.
Harry was sitting by his mother's body and stroking her beautiful, flowing red locks. "Mummy?"
Even in death, dressed in just a red maternity nightgown, she was beautiful. He was muttering spell names that Severus didn't recognize.
"Heiwa koros?" Harry always loved to play with her hair.
Severus packed quickly. Quidditch pajamas, Magical creatures pajamas, a formal outfit, two sensible outfits, a bag of diapers, and everything else he'd ever known Lily to pack for Harry went right in the bag.
"Harry, come here." He said, grabbing Harry's red peacoat and gold hat and gloves.
Harry hesitated before he walked over. His bare feet padding on hardwood seeming loud in the surreal, foreboding silence. "Go bye-bye?" He nodded. "Si-rus? Remus?"
He shook his head and helped the boy into his winter robes. "No, Molly and Arthur."
"Bye-bye Mowwy." The toddler echoed as he picked him up and shouldered the boy's bottomless, weightless diaper bag and walked downstairs. He was content with all of this, to Severus' surprise. Weren't babies supposed to cry a lot more than this?
Then, they reached the stairs and Harry sat up straighter in his arms and turned back to look at his nursery, a look of sad understanding in his eyes.
"Sowwy Mummy." He said as tears sprang to his emerald eyes, his voice shaking. Then, his eyes turned red with a single red dot in each, once again, only to quickly go back to being green.
"I'm sorry, Harry." He swallowed again and blinked back tears. Severus didn't give Harry a chance to reply and with a small, faint pop he disapparated to The Burrow.
Within the hour, everyone in the main circle who wasn't an auror had gathered at The Burrow. Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, Rubeus Hagrid, Remus Lupin, Augusta Longbottom. Their numbers were few after a decade at war. Almost the entire Bones family was murdered as well as Benjy Fenwick, Marlene McKinnon and her family. Molly Weasley had lost her brothers Fabian and Gideon Prewett. No one in this room, gathered in the living room and kitchen area around Minerva, was a stranger to loss and war. It was bittersweet, because at least Harry was alive, clutched tightly in Minerva's arms on the ratty old couch, clinging to her and looking around, quiet and uncertain. The foreign runes on his forehead had faded. His diaper bag sat, mostly forgotten, between her and Molly, who was nursing two and a half month old Ginerva at her breast. The other children were all upstairs, sound asleep and blissfully unaware of the happenings downstairs. Owls had been sent off alerting friends, family, and acquaintances all over.
Hagrid was at the table drinking, crying and getting pissed. He'd been like that since he came with Albus earlier. There was not a dry eye in the Longbottom was sat a respectable distance away, barely presentable, watching impatiently. She had to leave her grandson for this and it was something she could read just as well in a letter.
Remus hasn't spoken since he got here, and he hasn't taken his eyes off either Harry or Dumbledore the whole time. He knew everyone thought he was the spy, until an hour ago. "Albus, has there been any word on Sirius and Peter?" They were both inexplicably missing.
"I'm afraid not." Albus replied. Both of their letters came back without a reply and undelivered, respectively.
"All the aurors are out looking for them right this very moment." Twinkling eyes fell on Harry. "At last, the war is over, even if just for now."
The very idea was still so surreal. Like a dream. Even Albus couldn't explain it. The whole second floor looked like a powerful bombarda or reducto rebounded, yet both Tom and the Potters appeared to have died peacefully by way of the killing curse, and little Harry survived with just a cut on his forehead.
Augusta eyed Albus with a critical eye. "How can you say such a thing? Are you absolutely sure that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named survived?"
Albus nodded but she didn't let him reply, speaking over whatever it was he was starting to say. "Snape found the body, Albus! His followers are going to jail and their leader is dead. It's over, Albus. My son and his wife can come out of hiding, now. My grandson can finally see his parents again."
She was understandably exasperated. "If you've any proof, say it now! If all this is, is another death notification, then I'm going home to my grandson!"
"Now, Augusta, I know you're upset. You have every right to be." Albus gave her a placating look. "The most obvious sign is the DADA position. It is still cursed - I had the elves check on it as soon as I got the news. Furthermore, the dark marks of the followers have not faded. And finally, we have known for quite some time that Tom has been boasting about finding immortality. I can assure you, this is not just a scare tactic – Tom has been interested in immortality since his school days."
A warning, cautionary look was sent around the room. "Tom is not dead. He is merely resting, waiting and biding his time until his followers find him. That is why we must turn our focus, for now, to catching and imprisoning Tom's followers." A soft, twinkling, gaze that was almost grandfatherly turned to Harry. "Harry is the child of prophecy – we must do everything we can to protect him."
Minerva turned her eyes away from the child, now half-asleep laying on her chest, arms wrapped around her neck, head nestled on her shoulder. "Are you sure that the prophecy hasn't already been fulfilled? You-Know-Who is disembodied, is he not? Hasn't Harry already done his part?"
Albus frowned. "That I do not know, my dear. I can't tell you what happened that night, but whatever it was, whatever Harry did, he is a very special child. I am certain that he will be very important when he grows up."
Silence filled the room, save the occasional sniffle or watery hiccup, and the suckling noises of baby Ginerva.
"Albus…" Molly said, tentatively, still looking down at Ginny, still crying. "If they can't find Sirius…I would like to raise Harry."
Her voice was a barely discernable whisper, as if she was afraid to wake Harry beside her. "He can play with Ron and the boys and Ginny. He'll be loved here. Me and Arthur, we'll raise him as our own."
Albus shook his head in the negative. "I'm sorry, Molly. Harry needs to be as safe as he can be. Every single one of Tom's death eaters will be looking for him."
Albus held up a hand, silencing her before she could speak up. "I have an idea. But first, I need to return to Hogwarts and verify a few things. I also need to check on the status of the aurors' search."
He drew his wand. "This house is sufficient for now, being unplottable, but Tom has gotten around unplottable before."
They would not have had to resort to the fidelus charm otherwise.
"Keep Harry safe while I'm gone. Severus was thoughtful enough to bring Harry's things for him, everything he needs should be in there. I will return by nightfall. Severus, if you would accompany me?" Severus walked over and put a hand on his headmaster's shoulder, and with a pop, he was gone.
They appeared in Albus' office. It was the only room on Hogwarts Grounds you could apparate into and only the headmaster could apparate and disapparate to and from it, and only willingly. Ancient magic from the founders time.
Albus did not waste any time and began searching through the bookshelves against the wall, looking for a particular book. "Severus, tell me…what happened?" Aside from the obvious, of course.
"I failed her. I made a vow on my magic, I did everything I could, and I still failed her." Severus refused to look at Albus, and tears fell silently once more. He was a broken twenty-one-year old man. "I would have sooner let the Dark Lord kill me than let it come to this, if I had known." He and James had even made a truce, granted it was at wandpoint courtesy of Lily, for the sake of Harry and their unborn daughter.
Albus put up a hand, placating. "I know, Severus. I have never doubted your loyalty to Lily." He pulled books from shelves, glancing at them and flipping through a few pages before putting them back on the bookshelf. "You were the first one to get there. Is there anything you can tell me?"
Severus was silent for a moment. "Lily was always a genius, Albus." Indeed, she was always working on one project or another, endlessly fascinated by magic and curious to push its perceived limits. "I don't know what she did, but I doubt that the cut on his forehead is just from flying rubble. From looking at the damage, I would say that somehow, something Lily did protected Harry and made the killing curse rebound on himself."
It was the only explanation. Only the killing curse would have killed the Dark Lord, and the Dark Lord would not have hesitated to kill his target. He wasn't one to toy with targets, he only tortured his followers.
"I had an associate of mine gather up any ancient tomes they could find that might be useful to protect the house and the children. Whatever she found in them she must have used, because in all my years reading about the Dark Arts and serving the Dark Lord I have never seen magic work like that."
Albus gave a non-committal hum. "I will have to tell the aurors to bring me all the books from the house that are still intact, then. Maybe we can figure out what it is she may have done to protect Harry."
A few more minutes, and a few more books later, Albus finally found it. "Ah-ha! Here it is."
He pulled a book on warding off the highest shelf, covered in dust it had sat unread for so long. Severus gave him a questioning look. "This, my boy, is a very obscure book about warding. It has a blood ward in it that I would like to use for Harry, after I get the Ministry's approval."
This perplexed Severus. Only wards in a muggle neighborhood required Ministry approval. That's when it hit him. Wait he said 'blood wards' …!
"Albus, you can't be serious! Petunia hates the entire magical world, and Harry will not be an exception just because he is her nephew." If looks could kill, Albus would be dying. "Don't underestimate the power of hatred, Albus."
Albus looked up from his reading, his expression grave, sorrowful. "Then I will tell you not to underestimate the power of grief." Severus paused. "When I lost my little sister Ariana, I couldn't forgive myself. For years I resented her, having to take care of her because she was helpless and there was no one else. My little brother Aberforth was still in school, after all. I could have been out exploring the world, learning new things, and making my mark on the world, but she held me back." He sighed, and for the first time, Severus thought he looked world-weary.
"My own selfishness and greed cost my sister her life, Severus. I would give anything to go back to our childhood home and have the burden of taking care of her all over again. Her death changed my perspective of her completely. I am confident that Petunia Dursley will see a new perspective, as well. She will love Harry and raise him as her own."
Severus was silent. He wasn't sure which to believe, Albus' grief or his hatred of his father.
Night had fallen again on The Burrow. It had been nearly 24 hours since the Potters were killed and Molly had just gotten fussy Harry to sleep with Ron and was coming down the stairs when Albus popped back in, without Severus or Minerva. "Any news, Albus?" she said, rushing over. Her husband stood from his favorite armchair and rushed over to her side. Augusta was long gone and so was everyone else. Only Remus had remained.
Albus motioned to the kitchen table. "Please, sit down everyone. There are a few things that I need to tell you all." Wary and cautious, everyone made their way to the table and sat down with Albus. "First, the good news. I have a plan to protect Harry until all of the death eaters are imprisoned. It is not ideal, but it is the best course of action open to us right now."
He paused, looking each of them in the eye. "I am going to give Harry to the Dursleys. You see, his mother had a sister, a muggle named Petunia Evans. She is married now and has a husband and young son Harry's age. I have received permission from the Ministry's Child Welfare Department and had the paperwork written up already to set up blood wards around Harry's house. They will be set up to prevent all magical creatures and humans alike with a dark mark from coming on the family's property. I will have Hagrid fly Harry there himself, to allow me time to apparate there and set up the wards." He looked around the table again. "Is that clear? Any questions?"
Arthur looked confused. "Fly? Do you want him to take my flying car? Albus, I think he's too big to drive it."
Albus chuckled. "No, Arthur. Aurors recovered Sirius' motorbike and I am temporarily lending it to Hagrid. When all of this is resolved, it will go in the Black family vault."
Only Albus, the Former Savior of the Wizarding World and Defeater of Lord Grindewald, could convince the Ministry aurors to temporarily lend him their evidence before the case was resolved in court.
"Now, for the bad news." Albus face fell and his expression was once again sorrowful and world-weary. For a moment he looked every bit the 100 year old wizard that he was.
"I am sorry to report that the aurors have found Sirius and Peter. It appears that Sirius was the spy in our midst. According to half a dozen witnesses, Sirius cornered Peter and killed him and a dozen muggles with a single spell. Sirius was arrested not far from the scene and is currently sitting in a cell in the Ministry dungeons awaiting a trial by the full Wizengamot. As for Peter…all they could find of him to keep for burial was his right index finger."
Silence. Deafening, foreboding silence. They are all surprised. They thought that because of how his family reacted to his Gryffindor sorting, kicking him out but not disowning him, that he would be loyal to them to the end. The Potters had taken him in, even. He had been the most vocally against Lupin, labelling him as the spy. He was the one they least suspected. And now, this?
"Are you sure, Albus?" Molly asked. Her tone was just exhausted, emotionally depleted. "There's no mistaking any of this? You performed the spell - Sirius was definitely their secret keeper? Is there any chance that all of this is just a mistake?"
No one wanted to believe they were betrayed by one of their own, by one of the inner circle. Albus shook his head, and Molly started shaking and began cursing aloud at Sirius, calling him every foul name she could think of.
"Those Blacks are all the same! Dark wizards, they all are. I hope he rots in Azkaban for this!" Arthur pulled his wife to him, putting an arm around her and trying to console her.
"He had us all fooled. What did we miss, Albus?" Molly was crying and yelling now, gesticulating wildly. Arthur got up and led her away from the table and back to their room, talking quietly to her the whole walk back.
Albus let them go and turned his attention to Remus Lupin. Remus was dumbstruck, still, and crying silently. "Remus, I owe you an apology. We all owe you an apology."
Remus turned cautious green eyes to Albus. He still wasn't over everyone labelling him as the spy. "Out of all of us, you and Harry are suffering the most, but at least he will not remember this."
He had lost everyone he was closest to in a single night, all save their son. His two childhood friends, his childhood friend's wife, and his ex-boyfriend.
"You are not alone, Remus. You are welcome here. No one thinks ill of you anymore, and if anyone says anything then they will have to answer to me. I will not tolerate divisive comments in our temporary moment of peace."
Too many people had sacrificed themselves and laid down their lives for them to be able to sit here like this, alive and well and safe from Voldemort.
Remus nodded stiffly. "Thank you, Albus. I appreciate it, I really do."
He looked at him, trying to reassure him of his sincerity. "You are the only person who's said anything so far. I just...I just need to be alone for a while."
Remus stood and walked to the fireplace, taking a handful of floo powder. "If you or Harry need anything, just fire call me or send a patronus." Albus nodded, watching sadly as Remus called out the name of his house and disappeared in a roar of green flames.
A while later, Albus was cradling Harry in his arms outside. The toddler was clutching at his robes, nervously, and although his eyes were droopy with exhaustion he was too nervous to lay his head down. He was looking all around the vast field and forest that surrounded The Burrow.
Molly and Arthur were still in their rooms, Ginerva was nursing again, and the rest of the children were all asleep. The boy was still wrapped in his red Gryffindor blanket, covered with golden lions charmed to roar silently and make various animations. One was cleaning its paw, another was roaring at another lion that was growling, and two more were racing each other across the blanket's red surface.
"Lily was always best at charms." Molly had dressed him in his quidditch pajamas tonight. The quaffle and bludger were stationary, but a golden snitch flitted around the surface of the long sleeve, baby blue shirt.
An engine sounded in the distance, in the air, and when Harry heard it his face lit up. "Si-rus!" the boy was too tired to wriggle around and try to get free, but he did wrestle an arm free from the blanket's confines to point up at the flying motorbike descending down upon the driveway. Albus gave the boy a sad smile. In the darkness, the toddler couldn't tell who it was. He would be disappointed.
Hagrid walked up to Albus, his face still swollen and red from crying all day. At least, it appeared he'd taken a sober up potion.
"Harry!" the half-giant beamed at Harry, giving the boy the best, most enthusiastic smile he could muster.
Hagrid was a stranger, but this didn't bother Harry. "Hi Hagid."
Hagrid reached out and took Harry, getting him settled into the wrap carrier that Albus handed him a moment later. "This is Molly's, Hagrid, so take good care of it."
Hagrid nodded hurriedly. Molly could be quite intimidating when angered.
Albus walked them over to the motorbike. He tapped a circular monitor on the motorbike and said, "Point me, Number 4 Privet Drive, Surrey, England."
The monitor lit up and a green arrow appeared. "There, that will show you to way. When you get close, it will turn red. I will be waiting there. Look for me where the street lamps have all gone dark." Albus instructed, holding up his deluminator and gesturing with it.
Hagrid nodded. "Yessir. I'll get him there safe and sound for yeh."
Albus smiled. "I can always count on you, Hagrid. Remember, fly high and stay above the cloud cover. No one can see you. Now, off you go." He waved at Harry. "Bye, Harry." It might be another year or two before he saw the child, maybe even ten.
Harry was left on the doorstep of his new home quickly and quietly, so as not to wake him, and after a few heartfelt goodbyes, a letter was slipped between the folds of the blanket, his escorts popped away.
Even if he had the mind of a dead fifteen year old ninja, in body he was still a newly orphaned, traumatized civilian toddler. Without the comfort of his mother's warming charm on the baby blanket to protect him from the chilly, 40-degree November night breeze, he woke up much earlier than planned. Certainly, neither Hagrid nor Minerva nor Albus had ever had children of their own if they had expected the toddler to sleep soundly through the night. Molly may have given him a toddler's sleeping draught, courtesy of Snape, but those were only meant to put infants to sleep while they were teething, not to keep them asleep all night. Such a potion would be dangerous to administer to a baby.
The short fifteen-month-old got up, half awake and confused when he realized he wasn't at home in his crib or with the big warm man anymore. "Sev'us? Mowwy?" He didn't see Severus or Molly anymore either.
"Daddy?" He wrestled himself out of the blanket and sat up, picking up his blanket and clutching it to his chest.
He heard something and looked down, seeing a letter. It fell. "Uh-oh! I get it." He picked it up and looked around.
"Si'rus! Remus!"
Then, he noticed the doorbell. He knew what a doorbell was.
"Ding-dong!" He exclaimed, pushing it with a small, grubby, gold-gloved finger and giggling, when he heard the sound echo through the house interior. He pressed it again and again and again, giggling happily, until the door was wrenched open angrily.
"What do you want?!" He gasped and backed up at the loud angry man that appeared in the doorway, falling over the stoop in the process and landing hard on his bottom.
The curses died on Vernon's lips when he saw the toddler. He turned on the porch light and took notice of the diaper bag near the boy, wondering if he'd been abandoned. He looked inside the house and called for his wife.
"Pet! You'd better come look at this!" He knelt down to the black-haired, emerald eyed boy, an act made awkward by his weight. He didn't recognize the child.
He beckoned to him. "Come here, little tyke."
The boy hesitated but walked up to him. "Mummy s'inda."
At this point, the man's wife appeared in the doorway. "Vernon, what is it?" Then she saw the child. "Vernon, get the boy inside! He'll get sick out there. Is it one of the neighbors' section boys? Why's he got a letter and a diaper bag?"
Vernon stumbled over his answer. "I dunno, let me look."
The man picked up the diaper bag and ushered the boy inside, closing the door behind them. "Can I have the letter?"
The boy didn't reply, but he recognized the gesture and handed it to him.
As he opened it, his wife knelt down motioned the boy forward for a better look at him. She gasped when she saw his eyes. "You can't be…What's your name, dear?"
The boy answered her right away without a hint of shyness nor a moment of hesitation. "Harry." Petunia forced herself to reply. "I'm your Aunt Petunia."
Harry stared at her with wide, intelligent green eyes. "Aun' Tuny?"
Beside her, Vernon growled at the letter. "Its those damn freaks again!" he shoved the letter in her hands. "I don't care what they want, we're not keeping him!" he exclaimed, loudly and firmly, as if the sniffling toddler was nothing more than a stray pup his son dragged in.
Petunia scanned the letter, becoming increasingly distraught with each line she read. "They killed her, Vernon. They killed Lily."
Tears sprang to her eyes, and if she hadn't already been on her knees to talk to Harry she'd have fallen right where she was. Grief and anger overcame her all at once. Tears streaming down her face, she threw the letter aside angrily and pulled Harry in for a hug. "Harry. Oh, Harry!"
Vernon shuffled awkwardly beside them, but he had enough sense to not ask. Didn't she hate Lily? "I should have made up with her years ago. She was all I had left. And Dudley has no one now. All his classmates will have grandparents and aunts and uncles and he'll have no one." She was distraught.
Vernon started to speak up, but she cut him off, releasing Harry to stand and properly berate her husband. "Your sister hardly counts, Vernon! She's a drunk just like your father."
Vernon backed away from them, looking cowed, and retreated to the living room to put the diaper bag on the coffee table. Harry followed him and climbed up on the couch and laid down.
"Christ, Vernon what am I supposed to do. You can't ask me to send him away. He's all I have of Lily, and after everything that's happened, I can't just leave him to the wolves."
"B-but Pet, your parents! Your grandparents!" Vernon sputtered. "That madman killed them all looking for that freak!"
He pointed at Harry, loudly, his gesture more confused and surprised than angry. "I won't allow it! I'm not putting you and our son at risk for a freak boy that you've hated up until now!" Vernon only ever grew a backbone when it came to her and Dudley.
"He's dead, Vernon! The madman is dead. He is my nephew!" Petunia exclaimed. Vernon was all talk and no bite and they both knew it. "They are searching for his followers and they will all go to prison. We are safe, Vernon. We're safe. Harry's safe." Her voice was calm now, even pleading. "He won't be some freak like Lily or that unemployed lowlife that she married. He's going to be a normal, responsible, upstanding boy just like Dudley will be."
Vernon wondered for a moment if she was being serious or if this was just as much to convince herself as it was him. "You're certain, Pet? He'll do no magic whatsoever?"
His wife nodded. "Yes, Vernon. Lily could always control her magic. If we raise the boy like it doesn't exist, and if we're strict with him, and if we don't let him go to that school then I'm sure we can do it. He'll be just a normal boy."
Her parents had showered Lily with attention and praise and never once punished her for anything she did after she started going to Hogwarts.
"Fine, Pet. The freak stays." Vernon growled. "But you will go through me for every pence you spend on him! We're strapped enough saving for Dudley to go to Smeltings."
Petunia nodded. Perfectly reasonable, that was.
"He can sleep on the couch tonight, we'll figure something out in the morning." Vernon made to leave the room, presumably for the spare blankets in the hall cupboard, but she grabbed his arm and stopped him.
"How can you say that, dear? He could walk outside into the street and get lost. The neighbors, even the police, would be all over us! Nevermind the headmaster!"
Vernon paused, and she could tell from the look on his face that such a possibility hadn't crossed his mind.
"He can sleep in Dudley's playroom tonight on the pullout bed." Petunia said with a note of finality.
Vernon pulled his arm away from her and shrugged. "Whatever you want, Pet. He's your problem, not mine."
Petunia sighed, exasperated with him, and turned on her heel back to Harry as her husband ambled down the hall and back to their bedroom.
"Come here, Harry," she said, scooping the boy up and that red blanket he'd arrived in, draping it over and around him so it was secure and he was warm.
She scowled when she noticed the lions moving around on it. That will have to go. We cannot have such nonsense around Dudley. He stirred and lifted his head for a moment before laying it back down on her shoulder. She carried him into the kitchen and grabbed a sippy cup for him from the cabinets, filling it with water from the tap.
"Here, Harry. Its time to go night-night." I hope he knows what to do with it.
The boy grabbed it and sipped at it without any sign of confusion. "Nigh-nigh?"
Maybe she used normal things with him.
"Yes, Harry, it's way past night-night time." Harry seemed to relax at the familiarity. Tears sprang to her eyes as she watched him drink his water.
I always knew she would be such a good mother.
She carried him into Dudley's playroom and did her best to ignore the feelings of deep sorrow that carrying Harry into the room brought on. She shouldn't be carrying Harry in here. It was still painted pink with wooden letters hung on the wall spelling out the name Rose Marie. Rose wallpaper border hung at on the ceiling's border all around the room. She had repurposed the furniture for Dudley, and had donated most of the clothes she'd been gifted, and set it up with their old living room couch and an off-white plastic toy box from the store as Dudley's playroom but these had remained. She couldn't take this down yet.
Blinking back tears, she shut the door behind them and set him down on the floor so she could set up the pull-out bed for him. She would never have put Dudley on the couch pull-out bed, it was too high up to be safe, but it would have to work for now. They kept Dudley's old Noah's Ark infant bedding in a basket by the couch, Harry could use that. They had just updated his bed to a toddler bed with a football (American soccer) theme, necessitated because Dudley had got his chubby little leg stuck between the rails of his crib a few weeks prior.
That first night was long for all of them. Harry woke up at the crack of dawn screaming and crying, which woke up Dudley too. It was early, well before Dudley usually woke up. Dudley had always been a late sleeper just like his mother. It was a Friday morning so Petunia had been sound asleep while her husband quietly got ready for work. Their morning breakfast routine had yet to start. Mother and son usually slept in while father got ready for work and picked himself up breakfast on the way in to work. But Harry would change all of that.
Petunia went in to console Harry, marching into his room, conflicted between feeling both annoyed at being woken up (and that Dudley was woke up) and anguished that the boy was screaming for his mother.
He had fallen off the bed and the moment she walked in, he got up and ran over to her. For a moment, she thought his eyes were red with a red dot in each.
"Aun' Tuny! Up!" He exclaimed, before throwing his arms around her neck and crying into her shoulder.
"Tachi! Sasuke!" He was crying, tears streaming down swollen red chubby cheeks.
Petunia was puzzled. What on earth is he saying? Is he asking for a spell? Why's he asking for a spell?
She could hear Dudley walking around and turning over bins of toys in the next room, and decided to distract him instead. "Let's meet Dudley, Harry."
She put him down and took him by the hand, still clutching that damned blanket in his other hand, and walked him over to Dudley's room. She would have to find a way to take the blanket without him noticing.
She opened Dudley's door and turned found him with his box of trains dumped out all over the floor. "Good morning, Duddikins!"
She pulled her best, happiest smile for her son. "Mo-ning mummy!"
Dudley hugged his mother and they shared a moment of normalcy before Dudley finally noticed Harry.
"Dudley, this is Harry. He'll be living with us from now on."
Dudley looked at Harry, uncertain. "Hawwy?"
Petunia nodded. "Yes, this is Harry." she turned to Harry. "Harry, this is Dudley."
Harry waved. "Hi Duddy."
She got the boys dressed, both of them wearing Dudley's clothes. Dudley was big for his age and a big eater so they were big on Harry, but they would have to do. Even the pajamas Lily put on him were freakish. If all of his clothes are like those pajamas, I'm going to have to put them all in the bin.
She turned on the telly for the boys and put on some cartoons while she got breakfast for them – a dry eggo waffle, a banana, and a single egg scrambled each. Dudley could feed himself in front of the telly on the floor, so she assumed Harry could too. She always knew that Lily would make a good mother, freak or not. Hopefully Harry could use a toddler fork. Did wizards eat with forks? She wasn't sure. They were so backwards.
Dudley ate eagerly, as usual. She had gotten him his favorite eggo waffles, the new flavored ones he liked. Harry didn't eat much, and instead appeared to be more interested in the telly and in what Dudley was playing with. Dudley had a bunch of trains and cars spilled out on the play mat.
"P'ease?" Harry asked, picking up two of them, looking at Dudley, waiting for a reply. Apparently Lily had taught her son how to play with other children, and the boy possibly had experience playing with other children given what he just did…was he friends with other freaks? Would he pass on their habits to Dudley?
For a long moment Harry just stood there. Any other baby wouldn't have waited for a response like this, any other baby would've started playing with the two toys he'd taken by now. But not Harry, Harry sat down and thrust the toys in Dudley's face and repeated himself. "P'ease? P'ease Duddy?"
Dudley finally noticed Harry and what he was doing and reached for the two toy trains he was holding in his tiny, grubby toddler hands. "Mine!"
In his haste to take his toy back, Dudley pushed Harry over and then tripped over him and fell half on him half on the floor. Harry threw an arm over his face to shield himself, not losing his grip on either of the toys.
Petunia hurried off the armchair and over to the boys. "Dudley, Harry, are you alright?"
Harry was mostly unphased, if a bit shaken, slowly, gingerly, putting down the toy trains and just sitting there, watching. He was looking at her now, knelt down at their side. Dudley was starting to cry.
He sniffled and curled in on himself, his face red and scrunched up, tears running down his face. "Gomen mina." He said, sobbing and staring at the young mom embracing her infant son.
She pulled her chubby sixteen month old son close to her and held him. "You're fine, Dudley." She consoled him, rubbing his head with its mop of blonde hair, not yet combed, like he always liked.
"No hit, Dudley. No hit." She said, her voice firm, stern. She had to make him understand. "Be nice to Harry. You're brothers now."
She had always wanted Dudley to have another sibling to play with. Would it have gone this poorly if Rose hadn't passed away? Would Dudley have gotten along with his big sister?
"I love you, Dudley." She hoped she was doing this right. She was a first-time mother to two boys, now, and she hardly knew what she was doing with Dudley.
"Wuve oo mummy." Dudley repeated. Warmth and affection filled her at his words. This was all that mattered.
Days became weeks, and weeks became months. Dudley fought with Harry a lot and Harry woke up screaming with red eyes a lot. Sometimes he woke up screaming Mummy, and sometime he woke up calling out more nonsense words she didn't recognize. She tried to drug him but the cold medicine only got him to sleep quicker. It didn't last through the night and Vernon was already angry enough wasting their money giving the boy cold medicine so he'd go to sleep. She both loved and hated Harry; she loved him because he was her nephew, but at the same time he was the reason that her whole family was dead. He was more of a freak than regular freaks – he had people after him from the day he was born and he survived something he wasn't supposed to have survived. And now, he woke up screaming with freakish red eyes, his voice loud enough to wake the house whole house up.
Harry's room arrangements changed rather quickly. She had had enough of his nightmares waking up Dudley. She could lock him in the cupboard under the stairs, at least. It already had a lock and a baby lock on it so Dudley couldn't get in it – the plain lock had worked until Dudley figured out how to turn it and get inside, at which point she put a baby doorknob over it and hoped he wouldn't figure that out too.
Author's Note: Sorry for the boring, headcanon setup chapter. I wanted to set the tone for how Petunia and Vernon feel about Harry, set up Severus and Harry, and hopefully get the message across this time that he's Shisui. Not Harry. That's why he's having nightmares waking up calling for Itachi and Sasuke and why he's not crying when he gets hurt and asking for an episky spell to heal him. Also, i have no idea if i want Shisui in Gryffindor or Slytherin. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff aren't options because there aren't enough developed canon characters to work with to be his friends. So, Which house do you want to see him get sorted in?
4/6/20 - Minor edits made, mostly to edit out the unnecessary use of 'scene change' or 'timeskip'. Thanks to the reviewer that pointed it out! Its a bad habit of mine, i just read it so much so i used it without thinking. Working on finishing the next chapter right now.