Hello, I know it has been a ridiculously long time since I last worked on this fic, but this pandemic has managed to put everything on hold and prompted me to re-look at this. When I re-read the earlier chapters, I could barely believe that I posted it and thought it was good. I started this fic back in 2016-2017 and I think even then I knew I had no idea where it was going. That's not to say that I have a very clear idea now, but I at least have the next 10 chapters planned out. Less than ideal, I know, but better than what it once was. My writing style has also changed quite drastically. When I first wrote it, I was barely a teenager riding on a "writing high" with everyone around me thinking that my prose was brilliant. I'm slightly older now, still just a teenager, but I'd also like to think I've learnt a little more about what constitutes enjoyable writing, hence my decision to rewrite this fic. I had always liked the general idea, and now, if nothing else, I wish to write myself and for leisure again. And if I can bring another person some joy during these bleak times with my writing, I am incredibly glad to share it. (Not Beta-read) (This will also be posted on Archive of our Own under the same title by the pen-name Potato_Lady if you prefer AO3.)
I cannot guarantee that I will have any sort of regular update schedule; as I write this, my country is emerging from a two-month lock-down and I'm expected to return to school like nothing happened. What I can promise, bar any catastrophic happenings, is that this fic will see its completion one day, be it a few months away, or a few years away. Thanks for giving it a chance. -kuvyyra
September 1986
Like on any other day, six year-old Harry Potter woke up to the shrill voice of his Aunt Petunia screeching for him to wake up and prepare breakfast for his relatives. He left his cupboard under the stairs and made his way to the kitchen to start on breakfast for the two whale-like humans sitting at the small dinner table, watching him disdainfully with their beady eyes.
With breakfast soon set on the table, the chatter and rustling of the newspapers died down for the disgusting sound of rapid chewing. A knock sounding on the door broke through the typical commotion of the breakfast table. Uncle Vernon glanced up from his plate, fork poised halfway between the plate and his gaping mouth. "Who could that be?" he demanded. He met Aunt Petunia's equally quizzical expression and an ugly grimace that contorted his bulging face told Harry his displeasure at having his meal interrupted by an unexpected visitor. Uncle Vernon sent her a silent command to see to the door despite her hesitance. Dudley, who had been too busy stuffing his face with pancakes, did not notice the tense pause around him, only looking up in alarm as he heard his mother's scream from the door.
A cloaked man and woman apparated to the edge of a muggle suburb, going unnoticed by all its inhabitants through a liberal use of Muggle-Repelling and Notice-Me-Not charms. The man retrieved a piece of parchment with the official Ministry seal stamped at the top from his pocket, the spell his companion had cast upon it a few hours prior to their arrival glinting with a name and address.
Mr. Harry James Potter
The Cupboard Under the Stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey
He once again frowned at the first address line. "It still says 'The Cupboard Under the Stairs, ma'am," he reported. When it had first appeared in shining, ruby ink, he had passed it off to simply be the boy's current location. A little unusual, but nothing worth worrying about. Yet as he stood outside 4 Privet Drive, hours after the address had first appeared, he began to think the worst. It seemed that the boy's permanent address truly was 'The Cupboard Under the Stairs'. The lady beside him, dressed in the calming greens of a Ministerial Department of Magical Child Services officer, looked upon the parchment with a contemplative expression.
"You get the abused kind sometimes," she sighed deeply as she glanced over the paper, "Never gets any easier though."
He glanced from the parchment in his hand to the '4' emblazoned on the front of a dull beige house. This should be right, he thought, double-checking the red writing against the house before him. He had put an enormous amount of effort into locating a magical child in the muggle world. It was, after all, one of the final tasks he had to undertake as a Death Eater Initiate before receiving the Dark Mark. His current task supervisor walked ahead of him, towards the house. He clenched and unclenched his fist, moving with a confidence that did not align with his tremulous emotions. He assured himself that they could simply Obliviate the muggles if he had accidentally located a muggle child.
She knocked on the door of 4 Privet Drive, while he stood off to the side, hoping and praying that he had not been mistaken. He would have to start the search all over again, and he had only another four months as an Initiate at the Academy. Not to mention the sheer embarrassment of having his supervisor judging him on the way back to the Ministry, and then having to report to his mentor that he had failed. After all Barty had done for him, he wanted desperately to make the man proud. He snapped his gaze back up when the door creaked open, and a woman stuck her long neck beyond the half-opened door. Her face twisted into an ugly amalgam of loathing and fear, and she let out a shriek before stumbling back into the house. It took all his training as a future Death Eater to stop him from taking his own step back and showing the disgust he felt so prominently. His supervisor did not fare much better, her experience and professionalism forcing her expression to remain neutral. When the muggle tried to slam the door in their faces, he pushed ahead, holding his hand against the door, his superior strength winning out, and he forced his way into the doorway. The woman stumbled back further, her mouth moving rapidly as if she wished to say something, yet no sounds filled the air besides from her harsh breathing. His companion squeezed past him in the narrow hallway.
"Is this the residence of Harry James Potter?" she asked stoically. He clamped down the wave of anxiety he felt.
"G-get out! We-" she gasped, "We do not want any more of you… you freaks in our house!" They stared at the despicable woman. Was this muggle actually insulting them?
"By order of the Dark Lord, you are to release any and every magical child into the custody of the Ministry of Magic, or we will have no choice but to use force," she warned.
"What's going on here, eh? Don't you know some folks want to have breakfast in peace?" A beast of a man ambled around the corner, and his face turned an ugly shade of puce before he bellowed, his body shaking in anger. "Get out of my house! We do not want any of your kind here!" The man scrunched his fist together and took a step towards them in an effort to look threatening, but after having met some of the Inner Circle Death Eaters and the Dark Lord, no muggle will ever match up. He whipped out his wand which made the man freeze and the woman shriek. His supervisor followed behind him calmly as he turned to push further into the house, the muggles trailing helplessly behind them, giving them a wide berth. He found the child immediately, grabbing the boy with a tumid body that whimpered for mummy, one hand still clutching his fork, by the shoulders.
"Harry Potter?" His supervisor asked in a soothing tone. The boy in his hands started sniffling pathetically, shaking his bulbous head vigorously. He felt his stomach sink- it looks like he had gotten something wrong. The muggle woman screamed in fear when she saw them surrounding the boy.
"No! Not my Dudley! Take the other boy!" she wailed desperately, "His parents were freaks just like you, you can take him!" He let go of the rotund boy.
"Where is he?"
"I don't know! The stupid boy could have run away for all I care!" He turned to his supervisors in frustration, and she raised a brow, issuing him a silent test to find the boy as efficiently as possible. He swallowed, thinking. He could cast the Imperius on the muggles and make them retrieve the child? No, they did not seem to know where he was either. Summoning charm? No, the boy might get hurt. He smiled when it occurred to him.
"Homenum Revelio," the spell located the four other people present… and a fifth person hidden under the dining table. He crouched down and found a young boy curled into himself, watching him in fear. In that moment, he was grateful he had not gone ahead with the Summoning charm, for the child would have smashed into the chairs positioned in front of him. He stood back up and nodded an affirmative to his supervisor.
"Well done, Hoplin." She said simply, pulling the chairs away from the table. She sunk down to retrieve the boy, while he kept watch on the muggles around them. It took a while- the boy refused to come out and pretended his name was not Harry Potter until the muggle man pulled him out from under the table roughly and shoved him towards them.
He caught him and whispered in the boy's ear, "We are not going to hurt you, Harry Potter." The child looked at him with such hope shining in his bright emerald green eyes that it broke the Initiate's heart. His supervisor glanced at them and gave a faint smile. She raised her arm, wand in hand, before saying clearly, "Obliviate." He slipped out of the house with Harry Potter in tow as the bright flash of the Memory Charm filled the house behind him.
When she caught up to them, he wondered, "What if someone asks about him? Wouldn't it be suspicious if they just forgot about his existence?"
"I didn't just erase their memories, Hoplin," she explained, "I implanted new ones after removing their current memories. If anyone asks, Harry Potter was sent to live with his paternal relatives in London."
"How do you erase someone's memories?" asked a meek voice beside them. The Ministry Official smiled softly at the small boy.
"I promise we will explain everything very soon, but we'll need to go somewhere safe first, alright?" She patted his head when Harry Potter nodded bravely. "Good. Now hold my hand, Harry. In a moment, you'll feel like you're being sucked through a straw, I don't want you to panic, okay? Everything will be fine," she saw the boy swallow but nod once again, and she smiled a little broader. True enough, Harry felt the distinctly uncomfortable sensation of being compressed and thrown around, until his feet struck the ground in an unfamiliar location at an odd angle and he collapsed, feeling exceptionally nauseous. He felt the nice lady rubbing his back as he was hunched over, dry-heaving slightly. After he recovered, he straightened and looked around, finding himself in a grand entrance hall. He jumped when a group of eccentrically dressed people appeared suddenly with a 'crack'.
"Where are we?" he asked shyly, rather in awe of the architecture around him as he was led through the atrium and into one of the lifts at the far end. It took them up quickly, and they stepped out when an amplified voice announced, "Level Three: Department of Magical Child Services". They walked down a long hallway while the lady answered his question
"We've returned to the Wizarding World, Harry. This is the Ministry of Magic." At Harry's confused look, she elaborated, "This is where people decide how to take care of everyone else and help children like you." When they reached a door labelled 'Leila Travers', with 'Senior Child Retrieval Officer' engraved on the metal plaque, she paused and pushed the door open to reveal an office with paper memos fluttering around her desk. She gestured to a chair on one side of the desk for Harry to sit, while the man that came with them remained standing at the side of the desk.
"Children like me?" he repeated, curious.
"Yes, Harry. We're magical folk, you and I. I'm what you call a witch because I can use magic."
Harry frowned, his little face scrunched up as he thought about what was being said. "Am I a w-witch too, then?" he stuttered innocently. Harry turned around when the kind man that was with him at the Dursley's laughed at him, but he didn't think it was the mean kind of laughter, like how Dudley would laugh when his Aunt or Uncle scolded or hit him.
"You're a wizard, kid; Gentlemen, like you and I, are wizards, and ladies, like Madam Travers here, are witches." Harry stared at him, his mouth shifting as if he wanted to speak, until finally, he stuttered out, "I-I'm a wizard? I can do... magic?"
"Have you ever made things happen? Things you can't explain?" Harry thought back to the times he willed his cupboard door to open even though it was bolted shut from the outside. That time he ended up on a roof after a particularly vicious round of getting chased by his cousin and the other neighbourhood kids. He nodded in agreement at the man's anticipatory look.
"Harry, I'll need you to answer a few questions for me honestly, is that alright?" Harry agreed, and Madam Travers smiled and waved a stick. Suddenly, a piece of parchment and a quill floated up, and started scribbling when she asked him questions.
"What is your full name?"
"Harry James Potter," he answered, articulating each word carefully.
"When is your birthday?"
"July 31st 1980."
"What were the names of your parents?"
"I... I don't know," Harry said hesitantly after a long silence. The quill paused in the air.
"That's alright, Harry. Who have you been staying with for the past six years?"
"My Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon," came the reply, "And my cousin Dudley," he added.
"And do they treat you well?" Harry's eyes suddenly filled with tears, the emotional chaos of the day catching up with him at the reminder of his relatives that tossed him away to strangers, even if they were very nice strangers and he found out he was actually a wizard. He hid his face and shook his head quickly, afraid to admit anything aloud. He blinked his tears away and tried to swallow the lump forming in his throat. "You don't have to tell me anything, Harry. I'll find someone you can talk to, okay?"
"Okay," he acknowledged shakily.
July 1991
Over his next few years in Primary School, Harry learnt all he needed to in order to survive in a society filled with pure-bloods and half-bloods that have known only the Wizarding World. He discovered that he actually had magical parents, a pure-blood and a muggle-born, and was himself a half-blood.
Harry had found himself shuffling from place to place before finally settling down in Egladus Institution in the initial weeks after leaving the Dursleys. He had met more nice people, like Miss Cassidy, who Madam Travers introduced to him. She would spend a few hours every week just talking to him about anything at all. Sometimes it was about the awesome magic he saw being performed that day, other times, they spoke of his life with the Dursleys. He didn't miss them at all, but he did miss the first few friendly faces he met in the Wizarding World, and he smiled slightly when his thoughts drifted into the past, when he first heard he had to move in.
"Tyler!" he exclaimed when he saw the man that had rescued him talking to Madam Travers. Tyler waved to him and left Madam Travers' side.
"Hey kid," he greeted, ruffling Harry's already messy black hair, making Harry giggle. "I'm bringing you to your new home today," Harry made a face, and Tyler quickly reassured him, "It's a great place, you'll make lots of good friends. I grew up there, you know." Tyler continued when Harry gave him his attention. "It's called Egladus Institution. It's a huge place, full of dorms, and there's also the Primary School you'll be attending there. You'll finally get to learn to use magic, isn't that exciting?" Harry gave a noncommittal shrug.
"What's wrong?"
"But you and Madam Travers and Miss Cassidy won't be there," he said softly, somewhat petulant.
"Oh Harry, we'll still see each other! And don't worry, you'll continue to see Miss Cassidy every week. No one is abandoning you."
As he had moved into his dorm room, a few curious faces watched as he put his belongings at the unoccupied bed in the room. He later found out his dorm-mates were three other boys called Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas and Justin Finch-Fletchley.
After five years of magical education, Harry could barely remember what the muggle world was like. He loved magic, and the Wizarding World had made his life infinitely better. Learning about Wizarding Britain and its leaders heightened his respect for the Dark Lord and the government under his command. Harry agreed most strongly with the stringent enforcement of the International Statute of Secrecy- he would never wish the magic-hating Dursleys on even his worst enemy.
Harry tried not to let his mind wonder. It was the day of his TAILs I; the first of the two iterations of the nerve-wracking Test of Ability, Intelligence and Loyalty. He hoped with fervour that he would be able to get into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It has been his goal since he discovered it was the only school future Death Eaters came out of. Harry wrung his hands as he sat outside the examination room and almost jumped when the examiner poked her head out of the room and said, "Mr. Potter? We're ready for you now. Come in." He walked in, drawing a deep breath, sitting stiffly in the chair opposite two Ministry officials. On the desk, there was a small vial of clear liquid, barely bigger than his palm, and a wordy piece of parchment with a quill atop it.
"Good morning, Mr. Potter," greeted one of the examiners as she picked up the bottle. "This is Veritaserum, it makes whoever who drinks it unable to speak anything but the truth. It is required for the examination. Please sign the contract in front of you to provide your consent to this test." Harry nodded, clenching his fist to quell his nerves. He picked up the quill next to the parchment, reading through it quickly, and signed at the bottom of the consent form. He had nothing to hide after all. Except perhaps the fact he played the prank on Justin that left him with a great fear of heights… Harry tried not to panic; there was no way they would know his involvement about that! They didn't have time either!
Harry accepted the Veritaserum.
August 1991
This was it. It was the day his results would be released. Harry could feel the apprehension buzzing amongst the students milling about in the hall. He scanned the room, finding his friends huddled together at the side of the hall. They were whispering about something.
"...they came last night and took her away-" Seamus said in a conspiratorial tone.
"How do you know for sure? It's just a rumour," Justin asked, skeptical.
"We haven't seen her all day. And Hermione confirmed it-" Seamus insisted, ready to continue his story, but Dean interrupted this time.
"Hermione? Hermione doesn't listen to rumours, and if Lisa was really taken away, she wouldn't be talking-"
"Lisa was taken away? Lisa Turpin?" Harry interjected, confused and fearing the worst.
"Oh, hey Harry," Dean greeted and then turned to fix Seamus a disbelieving look, "That's what Seamus says but I think it's just rumours."
Seamus groaned in frustration, "It's true! Hermione was really upset when I asked her about Lisa. Got all teary and then she ran off!"
"So? She still didn't confirm anything!" Justin argued. The three of them continued bickering about what Hermione's reaction meant about the fate of Lisa Turpin, but Harry felt a little stab of fear through his chest. Someone he knew had been found disloyal and taken away. He hadn't known her very well, she had come in much later than the rest of them, and she was quiet and always looked like she had something weighing heavily on her mind, but they had still spent two years as year-mates in school. He had smiled at her when they passed each other by in the corridors. He had heard her chatting softly with the other girls in their year. And now she could be gone, taken to Merlin knows where. Logically, he knew that it made sense, but only when rebels and traitors were faceless, nameless monsters that fought pointlessly against the stability of the Dark Lord's rule. Lisa Turpin didn't fit the hulking, black silhouette of a rebel in his mind.
Harry walked towards the front of the hall, deciding he didn't want to hear their speculations about Lisa Turpin any longer. He spotted a bushy-haired girl sitting on one of the many chairs in the hall, and walked up to her, tapping her shoulder.
"I'm not telling you anything, Seamus! I would appreciate it, if you would leave me alone!" Hermione said, her voice wavering slightly.
"It's not Seamus, 'Mione," said Harry softly, his concern for his friend, and fear making his stomach lurch. Hermione turned around.
"Oh! Harry," Hermione said, as she tried to smile but it came out a grimace, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you, it's just," she sighed, "Seamus won't stop asking about… about Lisa," her voice caught in her throat and she took a deep breath, "and I really don't want to talk about it."
"I understand. I left when they kept talking about it too," he pointed his chin to where Dean, Justin and Seamus were still huddled together. They sat in companionable silence for a while, until Hermione broke it.
"I just thought I knew her, you know? I told her that I wanted to join the Ministry when I'm older, and she seemed so happy for me," Hermione took a shuddering breath, and Harry placed a hand on her shoulder. "And now I find out she doesn't even support the Ministry, or the Dark Lord," she lamented.
Their conversation was cut short by the arrival of the teachers, each holding a stack of parchment. Their results, Harry realised, following their movement nervously. The hall fell into a muted buzz of chatter following a noisy scramble to settle down into their designated seats. The Principal, a no-nonsense, no-fanfare woman announced in a magically-projected voice, "Good Morning, students. Please rise to recite The Oath." The chairs scrapped noisily against the floor as they all stood and recited the pledge in tandem. After the last words we dutifully uttered, they took their seats again.
"You should all be seated with your classmates in front of your Head Teachers. You will collect your results when your name is called. I wish you all the best." There was some polite applause as the Principal left the stage, and Harry's teacher Mrs. Hogan, began down the name-list alphabetically by their last names. It took a while to get to Harry, his nerves making him jittery as he watched more and more of his classmates receive their results, some hugging their friends in joy, while others slinked back to their seats in disappointment. Hermione had, as expected, gotten straight Os, but her joy still seemed undermined by her lingering fear and sadness over Lisa Turpin.
"Mr. Potter!" Mrs. Hogan smiled as he took the envelope from him, whispering an encouraging "well done" at him. Harry accepted it with gratitude. He peeled the envelope open carefully, pulling out the parchment and unfolding it. It read:
TEST OF ABILITY, INTELLIGENCE AND LOYALTY I
(TAIL I)
CANDIDATE NAME: HARRY J. POTTER
AGE (as of 1st Sep 1991): 11
SEX: M
BLOOD STATUS: HALF-BLOOD
TESTING VENUE: EGLADUS INSTITUTION (PRIMARY SECTION)
SECTION I: ABILITY AND INTELLIGENCE
Wizarding Culture and Traditions: O
Basic Wizarding History: E
Basic Wand Handling: O
Basic Magic: O
SECTION II: LOYALTY
The examiners, F. H. Macmillan and Q. Evanders (Department of Magical Education), have tested and found the candidate named aboveLOYAL, and can testify that the candidate HAS taken his/her Oath of Fealty.
Harry flipped to the page quickly finding the explanations of the grade system, and he swallowed his disappointment at having failed to obtain Os in all his subjects. He hoped that the glaring 'E' on the parchment would not indicate the end of his journey in becoming a Death Eater. Behind the first two sheets of parchment, he found the attached Annex detailing the next phase of his education. His heart pounded as he looked through the page rapidly. His heart sank momentarily when he saw his first two eligible schools, until his eyes drifted further down, and he grinned when he saw the last school listed.
ELIGIBLE SCHOOL(S):
AGARANE SCHOOL OF MAGICAL TRADES (All courses)
EGLADUS INSTITUTION (HIGHER MAGICAL STUDIES SECTION)
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
Please indicate your choice of school and course (where applicable) in the table below.
Please note that you are NOT guaranteed admission to the school of your choice.
Duly completed forms should be submitted through your Primary School or Owled to the following address by 10/08/1991:
School Admissions Office
Higher Magical Education Branch
Department of Magical Education
Ministry of Magic
LATE APPLICATIONS WILL NOT BE ENTERTAINED.
You will be informed of your posting via Owl on 17/08/1991.
Harry returned to his seat, flashing Hermione a smile. "You're eligible for Hogwarts?" she asked, already knowing the answer.
"Yeah!" He couldn't wait to tell Tyler about his results! Harry could still hardly believe it himself. Of course, he still worried he wouldn't be accepted, but that didn't matter. He will become a Death Eater even if it was the last thing he did.