Disclaimer: I do not work for J.K. Rowling. I am not associated with J.K. Rowling, nor with Harry Potter, Bloomsbury or anything at all relating to Harry Potter, really. I'm just having fun using another person's world to tell my story, like other Fanfiction writers, as J.K. Rowling is magnanimous enough to let us do. Therefore, please enjoy my story. I do not receive payment for what I write, but your reviews, follows and favourites more than make up for that.

- This chapter has been made possible by the help of my wonderful beta reader N7Krogan -

AN: Right then, chapter one. I am happy to have gotten this out on the birthday of our illustrious Boy-Who-Lived. It signifies a good start to this story, I would hope. This story is rated T for eventual mild adult language and themes (3rd/4th year and up). I can also tell you that this story is going to be very long. Expect it to be a good couple hundred thousand words long. If that's not your cup of tea, feel free to click away. I won't resent you for it. If it is, however, then welcome. Do settle in and get comfortable. I made this for you, and I sincerely hope you enjoy it.

With that being said, I would like to introduce you to Ruff:

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Ruff is going to be in charge of keeping my scenes all nice and tidy. He'll separate them so you'll be sure to know when you've landed in a different scene. Please take good care of him. Then, without further ado...

HARRY POTTER AND THE PAINTING OF JÖRMUNGANDR

Chapter One: The Thornbraths

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Tears fell from 9-year-old Harry Potter's face as he fled. He was running away from home as fast as he could, desperate not to get caught. He had just been witness to a particularly nasty bout of anger from Uncle Vernon, before losing it and running out the door. Uncle Vernon would be livid when he got back, but he didn't want to think about it right now.

As he was passing the large, square houses of Magnolia Road, the lights in many of them started to come on. It had been almost dinnertime when young Harry had run away from his Aunt and Uncle, and the evening was falling quickly. A low rumble in the pit of Harry's stomach made him realise what a bad time he'd picked for running away. Leftover bread and stale cheese was not the most appealing meal, but now he wouldn't get anything at all for dinner. He clutched his stomach and let out a small whine as he walked across the pavement.

Suddenly, Harry heard a loud crack, like the sound of a whip. He spun around on the spot, frantically trying to find the source of the noise.

Were those bushes moving? Harry wasn't sure, he might have imagined it. He went closer to inspect them. Slowly — not trying to frighten anything that might or might not be in there. He reached forward to part the leaves with his hand…

"Excuse me," a low voice called out from behind him.

Harry yelped and jumped in surprise. He fell in a heap on the lawn he'd just trespassed on.

"I'm sorry, lad, I didn't mean to frighten you. Let me help you up."

Harry looked up at the new arrival. The man was probably somewhere in his forties, had a hooked nose and slightly curly pepper-and-salt hair to go with his short boxed beard. He looked neither stern nor overly friendly, just curious.

Harry backed up, away from the man, his mind racing. He had to get out of here as soon as possible — if this man told the Dursleys that he had been trespassing…

"Calm down," the man said, apparently realising that Harry was uncomfortable. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Harry wanted to believe the kind man. It didn't look like he was in trouble. Tentatively, he stuck out his hand. The man helped him to his feet, then smiled.

"There we go! Now, if you don't mind telling me, what were you doing on my lawn?"

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it again. He didn't think it would be wise to tell the stranger what he had been doing. He wasn't even sure the man would believe him.

"I— I'm sorry, mister. It won't happen again, sir."

The man laughed a big, hearty chuckle. "You're not in trouble, son."

Harry let out a breath. He wasn't in trouble! His relief must have shown on his face, because the man shook his head.

"Well— if you don't want to tell me then I'd best let you go home." The man looked at his watch. "It's getting a bit late, are your parents not around?"

Harry mumbled something about living with his Aunt and Uncle. The man's expression softened.

"And are you Aunt and Uncle not with you? Surely they don't let you walk around the neighbourhood this late in the evening."

Harry's cheeks flushed a bright red. He didn't want to tell the man he'd run away from home, but…

He shook his head. He'd only just met the man, there was no way a random stranger would help him. But he had been so nice so far…

While Harry was fighting his internal struggle, the man made up his mind. He had been a teacher for a long time now, and the look on Harry's face, as well as his apparent physical well-being, had him worried.

"Listen," he said. "My wife, my daughter and I are about to have dinner. I don't feel comfortable letting you go home all by yourself, so how about you come and have dinner with us instead?"

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. Not only was he not in trouble, but the man was offering him food? He still wasn't sure if he could completely trust the man, but when his stomach growled again he made up his mind.

"I would like that, sir."

"Well then, I should probably introduce myself. My name is Douglas Thornbrath, but please call me Douglas. And what might your name be?"

"H—Harry. My name is Harry."

"Well then Harry, do you have a way to let your Aunt and Uncle know you won't be home for a while? I don't want them to get worried."

Harry bit back a laugh. "They won't, don't worry."

The man eyed him curiously, before nodding curtly. "Let's head inside, then."

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Douglas led him through the front door and into the living room. It was plain, but in a good way. Whereas the Dursley home was littered with Dudley's broken toys and old photographs hung on every surface, the home he was in now was much more inviting. The mantle had a few knickknacks on it, and pleasant art adorned the walls. It felt like a nice home to live in.

A woman and child were sitting in the living room, cuddled into each other and watching TV. The two looked up as they entered and the woman threw her husband a curious look.

"Honey, this is Harry. I found him outside, wandering around the neighbourhood. I didn't want him to head on home by himself so I asked him if he would like to have dinner with us." He then turned to him. "Harry, I'd like you to meet my wife Jocelyn, and our daughter Elisabeth."

"Hi!" Elisabeth said excitedly.

"Um— hello," he waved back meekly.

Jocelyn stood up and walked over to them. She smiled pleasantly, and Harry instantly relaxed.

"Hello there, Harry. It's nice to meet you. I'm glad my husband was able to find you." She then looked at him a little sternly. "You really shouldn't be wandering around this late, you know."

Harry looked down at his feet in embarrassment. "Yes ma'am."

"Lizzie, darling, would you mind showing Harry the dining room really quick? Your Mum and I need to talk."

"Yessiree!" she responded, and dragged Harry by the hand. He was surprised by the sudden contact, but followed her nonetheless.

Harry could hear whispers from the two adults as they left the room.

"Signs of malnourishment—"

"—not there to watch over him?"

Then the door closed and he and Elisabeth were alone in the dining room. In the middle stood a mid-sized oak dining table with six chairs, two at each end.

"Sometimes we have gram gram and granddad over for dinner, that's why there's so many chairs."

Harry was trying to wrap his head around the fact that he would be seated at that table soon. The Dursleys had never let him sit with them. He couldn't believe the kindness these random people were showing him. It overwhelmed him for a second, until he realised Elisabeth was talking to him.

"—to eat fish and chips tonight. Mum's cooking is amazing, you'll love it! Hey, are you listening?"

"Y—yes, sorry. I'm just a bit overwhelmed, that's all."

The girl looked at him funnily. "You're weird!" she said, but there was no malice in her voice, just playfulness. Harry smiled.

Douglas and Jocelyn chose that moment to join them in the dining room.

"We're back," Jocelyn announced. "Harry, darling, please take a seat anywhere you'd like. Dinner should be ready soon." She left through a side door which, presumably, led to the kitchen. Harry looked around for a second, then sat himself down on one of the chairs. Elisabeth had already taken a seat on the chair across from him.

Douglas chose to sit next to Harry, which he was fine with. He no longer felt any fear for the man, but rather, an intense gratefulness.

Douglas and Elisabeth started chatting about what she'd done at school today, and a couple minutes later, Jocelyn re-entered the dining room. She carried with her two plates full of the most delicious fish and chips Harry had ever seen. Another trip to and back from the kitchen, and everybody had a plate of their own in front of them.

"Dig in, everyone. I hope you enjoy the food." Harry didn't have to be told twice. He positively attacked his food, but made sure not to make a mess. He didn't want to embarrass himself in front of the Thornbraths.

During the meal they talked about all sorts of things. Harry was apparently a year older than Elisabeth, which surprised him as they were about as tall. The Thornbraths asked him questions as well, such as where he lived, what school he went to, and how life was living with his Aunt and Uncle. Harry had trouble answering some of those questions, and Douglas and Jocelyn shot each other meaningful glances on more than one occasion.

The food itself was absolutely delicious. Harry had never tasted something this good before, and at the end of the meal, he had tears in his eyes from the generosity he was being shown.

"Elisabeth, dear, would you mind leaving us and Harry? We need to talk about a few things."

"Yes, daddy," Elisabeth said, and she left the room. When she was gone, the two adults turned to face Harry.

"Harry," Douglas said, noticing the tears in his eyes, "I want you to be honest with us. How are your Aunt and Uncle treating you at home?"

Harry was surprised by the direct question. For a second, he considered not telling them anything. That everything was fine and there was nothing to worry about. But in the end, he couldn't get himself to do it, not after everything they had done for him.

All of it came rushing out. How the Dursleys treated him, how he lived in a cupboard under the stairs, how his cousin Dudley would gang up on him with his friends and bully him, and even how he'd had to academically underperform to keep the Dursleys from getting angry with him over making Dudley look stupid. Somewhere in the conversation, Harry had started crying. Jocelyn had quickly come over and wrapped him in a hug as he continued spilling all of it. Douglas simply watched him, but his expression grew increasingly more dark the more Harry told them about his life. At the end of his story, and more than half an hour later, Douglas stood up, his fists clenched.

"How come the social services were never called on these monsters?" Douglas almost spat the last word.

"I'll go make some hot chocolate," Jocelyn said. "I believe we can all use some."

She threw another quick look at Harry, then stepped out into the kitchen.

"I tried to tell my teachers to call them," Harry said through his tears, "but they would never show up. When I asked them about it later — they said they didn't remember anything, and not to mess around like that!" He turned away.

"Harry, please look at me." Harry dried his tears as best he could and did so.

"What your Aunt and Uncle did and are doing is wrong. A child should never be treated like they are treating you." His voice was shaking, but he continued. "You do not have to worry, because that stops now. I'm going to have a little talk with them tomorrow. I will also have words with that cousin of yours. But it can't just come from them. You will have to start standing up for yourself, and fight back. Can you do that for me, Harry?"

Harry looked the man in the eyes, then nodded. Then Douglas swept him up in a hug, and Harry cried some more.

If someone would ask him years later, this would be the evening he'd refer to where his life had completely diverted from the path it had previously been on, where the Harry he used to be made way for another, new Harry.

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Douglas made good on his promise, like he said he would. The day after their shared dinner, he went over to the Dursleys with Harry and took them aside for a conversation. The Dursleys tried to bluster their way through it, demanded him to get out of their house, tried everything to make him leave. But Douglas warned them that he would contact the authorities if they so much as sneezed in the wrong direction. When the Dursleys found out just how much exactly Douglas knew, they were terrified. There was no way they would risk losing their preciously normal life, nor would they do anything that could place Dudley at risk of living without his parents.

And thus, they obeyed. While they were not kind to him by any stretch of the imagination, they no longer treated Harry like filth, and they no longer kept him from eating his fair share of food. Harry even got Dudley's second bedroom to sleep in.

Harry continued to meet with the Thornbrath family on occasion, where he and Douglas would talk about how the Dursleys were treating him, if he had had enough to eat and how his studies were going. Harry had taken up going to the library in his spare time now that the Dursleys allowed him more freedom, and he'd quickly become one of the best-performing students in his class. He also developed a penchant for standing up to his bullies, and word quickly went around that Harry Potter should not be messed with.

After her parents explained Harry's situation to her, Elisabeth was mortified. They didn't include details, but she knew enough to feel horrible for the poor boy. Therefore, whenever he was over, she made sure to spend some time with him doing things like watching TV and playing outside.

For the first time in his life, Harry was glad. The Thornbraths had done more for him than he could ever hope to imagine, and his life had forever changed for the better because of it.

Which is why it was with such a heavy heart that an eleven-year-old Harry Potter walked up to their front door on a particularly sunny day in August.

When the door opened, Harry was greeted by a squeal of delight. "Harry!"

He grinned. "Hi, Lizzie. May I come in?"

"Duhhh!" she said, moving aside to let him pass. Harry entered the living room and Lizzie joined him soon after. Douglas and Jocelyn were already there, watching the news on the television.

"Harry darling, how wonderful to see you!" Jocelyn smiled at him. "Where have you been these past few weeks?"

"I must admit I was getting a little worried myself, son," Douglas said.

Harry grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, sorry. I should've sent you a message or something." Then he moved to sit down on the couch across from them, and his face turned serious. "I need to talk to you, actually. All three of you."

"Harry, what's wrong?" Jocelyn asked, while Lizzie also sat herself down.

"I— there is no easy way to say this, but… I'm going away. To a boarding school, out of the country. I probably won't be seeing you until I get back at the end of the year." His face was sad as he told them.

Lizzie's eyes started to water a bit. "You're going… away? But— we've been having so much fun together…"

"I know, but I didn't really have much choice in the matter. I'm sorry I have to tell you like this."

"It's that why you haven't contacted us in the past couple of weeks, dear?"

"Yeah," he said. Truthfully, he had recently gone shopping for his school supplies in Diagon Alley, and proceeded to buy some extra books that explained things like the Hogwarts houses and wizarding etiquette. It was fascinating, and he'd spent most of those weeks reading. But he couldn't very well tell them that, of course.

The lies came easily to him.

"Well, sort of. The Dursleys had to take care of a few things, and they needed me to come with them. They even took me to see the school, and I got to meet some of the Professors."

Douglas' eyebrows raised in surprise at that.

Harry smiled. "I think the Dursleys are just glad to finally get rid of me after all this time."

"When are you leaving?" the Thornbrath patriarch asked.

"Next Sunday," he said sadly.

"Then— this is goodbye?" Lizzie asked.

"For now, yeah. I won't be seeing you for a wh—" that's as far as he got before Lizzie slammed into him and almost hugged him to death. He put her arms around her, and soon after, the two adults joined in on the hug as well. They stood there in silence for a good minute.

Eventually, Harry broke away. "I can't thank you guys enough for everything you have done for me since that one evening two years ago. I believe you guys have made my life immeasurably better and I will be forever grateful to you."

"Harry," Douglas said, "you've been a wonderful presence in our life as well. I do not regret a single thing I've done since then. I'm happy your life has improved so much."

They exchanged a few more pleasantries until eventually, Harry decided it was time to go.

"I'll miss you, Harry," the blonde-haired girl said with tears in her eyes.

Harry smiled a sad smile. "I'll miss you guys too. See you all next year, yeah?"

They all smiled and nodded. They waved him off as he made his way out to the main street, and then he was gone.

It was a bittersweet farewell, and one of the hardest things Harry had ever done.

One week later, he was boarding the train to Hogwarts to start his new life in the Wizarding World.

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