Nothing in this entire story is owned by me except the plot, and I make no $.
This Chapter is a transition, so don't expect anything too terribly marvelous. Harry's beating plays a role later, but it did leave certain elements that I had to iron out before I could continue. So this is sort of the ironing chapter. The next chapter, Harry will be at the Weasley's, he will talk to the Light chic again, and he will began to invoke some power. Following the next chapter he will began to use his powers, and I promise a bit of action too. Harry is a complicated figure right now because he is essentially three different people, so the next two chapters explain and demonstrate this, and then I put it to use. It takes Harry awhile to accept everything and actually become a Merlin, but I hope I keep you interested till then. There will be a few turns, and a battle before that.
As apologies for the slow start, I will update quickly until the plot begins to thicken, which should be soon, if you can just have a little patience with it. I think it will be worth the wait, but it might not be unless I do take the time to set the groundwork.
I don't mind flames, but be constructive not destructive with 'em.
Chapter Three: Did They Get My Good Side?
Harry passed out again in the ambulance, though he did his best to give Sirius and Remus some reassurance. Didn't seem to work, however. Must have been the gushing blood, Harry decided before he welcomed the darkness.
The paramedics, in the meantime, were cursing at Sirius and yelling about having a dog in the ambulance, but there had been something about Dumbledore that they were scared to cross. The paramedics managed to slow the bleeding and get him in a slightly more stable condition. They got him some blood and began a transfusion, though he would need more, a lot more. They couldn't do much else for his bruises, hemorrhaging, or crushed chest.
The paramedics rushed him into the hospital, and the boy was brought up to the OR almost immediately. Sirius and Remus sat in the waiting room where they were soon joined by the rest of the professors and the Weasleys. Hermione showed up a bit later, tears streaming down her face as she hugged Ron, who looked ghastly pale. The rest of the teachers weren't much better. It seemed to be decided that silence would reign until word got back. So they waited. And waited. And waited, visiting the vending machines (which did lighten Mr. Weasley's spirits at least, even if Snape had been near to cursing the 'bloody muggle invention') at least a hundred times.
Harry woke up almost a full day later. He was nearly blinded by all the white. Everything was white. He groaned as he realized he was in a hospital, and almost immediately he was attacked by a red head and a brown, frizzy bush of hair. Harry smirked as he let himself be hugged. He would have hugged them back, but his arms had taken the brunt of Vernon's knife and were wrapped in a good three inches of gauze.
"You had us so worried," Hermione said between sobs.
"Don't do that again," Ron chastised. Harry laughed. They pulled away with wide smiles. "You had us going crazy!" Ron said again.
"Not like I planned it," Harry replied. His whole body was screaming, especially his back, but he ignored it and tried to concentrate on acting normal.
"You get to come over, now," Ron said excitedly, nearly bouncing. "Hopefully they let you out soon and then we can get you some half way decent food."
"Mr. Weasley has even insisted we break you out and obliterate the memories of nearly a hundred people," Dumbledore said from a standing position on the wall to Harry's right. Sirius sat on the edge of Harry's bed, his dog head laying on Harry's feet, eyes gazing up, and Remus sat with Hagrid by Dumbledore. Snape and McGonagall were on the farther wall looking at Harry with relief.
"Why didn't you?" Harry asked with a laugh, again, ignoring the throbbing in his chest. He could tell that wasn't the right question. Dumbledore suddenly lost some of his glittering twinkle and became serious.
"You're injuries were quite serious, Harry. When we got there you had no pulse, so we let the paramedics take over. You were dead for fifteen minutes before they brought you back. We decided it was safest for you to stay somewhere where they had those zappy things. If it happened again at Hogwarts or the Weasley's, we wouldn't be able to bring you back." Harry nodded, decidedely uncomfortable with the seriousness in the room. He laughed suddenly, deciding he had to break the tension. Everyone looked far too worried about him. Mrs. Weasley, in a chair to his left, looked ready to either hug him to death or start bawling. Yep, they needed a good laugh. Where were twins when you needed them?
"Something funny about you nearly dying and ruining my weekend plans, Mr. Potter?" Snape demanded, cold but with a line of worry. Harry smiled again.
"I was wondering if you could get a picture of Voldemort's face for me, Professor, when he finds out my muggle uncle actually managed to kill me and all he's managed to do is piss me off. When you think about it, I'm actually pretty lucky that everyone's so prejudice in the world. God forbid, if my uncle didn't hate wizards, and Voldemort didn't hate muggles, the two of them might have actually managed to kill me together." It worked. The adults in the room looked a bit relieved, though they were still far from cracking smiles. Ron and Hermione didn't appear to care about worrying, not so long as Harry was up and smiling. Dumbledore's eyes at least began to twinkle again, for the first time since news came that Harry had been beaten by his uncle.
The pain however was increasing with every laugh and with time, so Harry snuggled back into the covers a bit and rested his chest, taking shallower and quicker breaths to relieve the tension. Mr. Weasley and Dumbledore noticed his discomfort and the level to which he tried to smile through it, and both men frowned. Remus wasn't too far behind.
"I think Harry needs some rest," Dumbledore said quickly, looking pointedly at the children and professors. Taking a hint, they slowly began to leave, though not before Hagrid tried to make a fierce bear hug of his favorite student. Dumbledore had to practically curse him away when he saw Harry flinch as Hagrid's arms circled around the lacerations on his back.
Remus, the Weasley parents, Sirius, and Dumbledore were all that stayed. Harry was suddenly uncomfortable. All these people he loved like family, and the fact that they had scared away everyone else meant they were looking for a serious discussion, not some nap time. Harry suddenly turned over, a bit too quickly, since he gasped, but he fought the pain down, clamped his eyes shut, and tried to ignore the annoyed, amused, and worried looks he knew he was getting.
"Nice try, kiddo, but you don't get to sleep yet," Sirius said playfully, shaking Harry's feet since the rest of him was covered in bruises.
Harry pretended to keep sleeping until Sirius suddenly threw a tinkling charm on his feet. Harry woke up laughing, and Sirius immediately dispelled the charm, not wanting to cause more harm. His godfather sat down on the edge of the bed again, in human form, gazing at his godson with a look that rivaled the one he gave him at the Tournament.
"You could have told one of us," Sirius said seriously and with conviction. Great, Harry thought, it's that discussion. He wondered if a time-warping charm would be a breech of ethics or misuse of power. Maybe he could obliterate their memories? Maybe there's still a chance he could go into cardiac rest, he thought happily. Unfortunately, he had no wand, wandless magic would alert them to his identity, and his heart, blast it, seemed to be working.
"I'm usually at Hogwarts," Harry replied, "and it's not a problem there."
"You spend two, nearly three months with those monsters," Sirius practically growled. Harry fought the urge to shrink into his covers. He gazed back at Sirius with as much determination as he could muster. Sirius seemed to sense the farce, however, and he immediately checked his voice. "If you told somebody, you could have been spared all of that," he said softly, shaking his head sadly.
"Secrets don't stay in the Wizarding world, and I didn't exactly fancy finding a front page article in the Daily Prophet about my home life. Malfoy would have a ball with it. As though it's not hard enough being a disturbed, dangerous parselmouth with brain damage…"
"Well, one way or another, the secrets out," Remus said quietly, looking into Harry's eyes to decide how he would react to it. Harry nodded.
"I assume being dead in a pool of blood for fifteen minutes on my driveway would attract a reporter or two. I wasn't feeling terribly attractive at the time. Did the pictures at least catch my good side?" Sirius smirked along with Dumbledore.
"I think all your sides were covered in blood," Sirius said, a bit more seriously and with a touch more anger.
"Keeping that from us, Harry…you could have gotten yourself killed, and by all rights, you did get yourself killed," Dumbledore chastised with his piercing blue eyes. Harry cursed those eyes. He knew why he had done it, why it had to be done, but with those eyes, he found guilt creeping into his system. As though he had honestly done something wrong. Harry had to fight the urge to scoff. They wouldn't have told anybody either. He somehow knew that this approach wouldn't be met well, so he decided to go with a more reasonable approach rather than his classic Godric remarks, which did tend to be sarcastic, flirtatious, and carefree.
"I'm already a near mirror image of the psychopath, I have his parseltongue, we're both orphans, and both our mothers died trying to save us. I didn't exactly want to add growing up in an orphanage to the list of similarities," Harry said with a tired voice. "Fudge would have thrown me in jail and accused me of being Voldemort if I took on one more similiarity."
"You're Harry Potter. I'm sure we could have found a suitable place for you to stay, and I could have handled Fudge," Dumbledore replied, saddened by the level of pain Harry exhibited when he talked about his similarities with Voldemort. There were too many. Even Dumbledore would admit that. Far too many similarities.
"I didn't want to be a bother," Harry replied, shaking his head slowly.
"You're never a bother, darling," Mrs. Weasley replied. Harry smiled. She radiated warmth, a natural magic he supposed.
"Well, you're staying with us now," Mr. Weasley said with a proud smile. "You can teach me more about the fellyfone." Harry smiled a bit wider.
"And Sirius will be staying there along with Remus," Dumbledore added. "I want as many adult wizards in there as possible, and I think it's good for you to have some adults you can turn to." Harry's smiled immediately faded, and everyone blinked.
"What about Voldemort, Professor? Are their wards on their house?" Harry asked. He knew he could always add more, but there was no guarantee that the house would be fool proof against attack, nor any guarantee that he could save everyone in the house from a squad of death eaters. He was powerful, not immortal nor invulnerable, and certainly not beyond error. He didn't fancy the image of Ron dead because he was living there.
"The Weasley's house is nearly as safe as the Dursleys. I've had a team of Aurors putting up the wards, and I was working on them earlier this summer knowing you'd want to stay there for the end of the holiday." Harry nodded and smiled again.
"About your uncle…" and there went his smile again, "the muggle police have arrested him and we're going to leave it to them for now. They should have enough evidence without your testimony, so they shouldn't bother you. If he gets off or if it's a short sentence, we'll try him in a wizarding court. I don't want to do that unless it's necessary. Like you said, the press would have a field day, more so than they are already." Harry nodded.
"How bad is it?" Harry asked fearfully.
"We haven't even shown Ron and Hermione," Mrs. Weasley said quickly, "But since the Slytherins are bound to let you know what's in it anyway, you should probably know." The last part was said with apprehension as she unfolded a paper and handed it to Harry. Harry's smile vanished as he saw himself laying dead on his driveway, and he most certaintly did not look sexy. A wasted photo-op, Harry thought bitterly…Lockhart would have had a heart attack. His eyes finally scanned to the title, and the color left in his face vanished. He quickly began to read while the adults waited patiently, uncomfortable, and worried.
Boy Who Lived Raped and Beaten Regularly
Harry Potter, the boy famous for defeating the dark lord and this years Tri-Wizard Tournament winner was found dead in his relatives home this evening by his professors and headmaster. A Hogwarts professor was apparently sent to check on Harry during the summer holiday, and he was found near dead in his room. By all appearances, the boy's uncle had brutally beaten and raped the fourteen year old wizard.
This appears to be no random incident. According to hospital records in the area and neighbors, Harry's abuse is a regular occurrence. Harry has apparently been a sexually and physically abused child since the age of six.
Harry stopped reading after that, a bit of shock and anger coursing through him. He briefly skimmed the rest. They went into detail about his injuries, his death, and how he was brought back by muggle technology. Harry turned to the adults, looking annoyed and borderline furious.
"This is ridiculous," Harry stated, handing the newspaper back to Mrs. Weasley, "He never touched me." Sirius looked at him, looking suddenly relieved.
"What?" he asked, acting like Harry's answer to this question might very well save the world from crumbling.
"You actually believe that rubbish?" Harry asked in shock. Sirius, if he were the sort to blush, would have about then.
"No, but your uncle…he…when we found you that is…he was trying…"
"He was trying," Harry replied with a bit more force, "And I promise it was the first time he ever got drunk enough to try anything like that. He abhors everything about me. I'm surprised he had the balls to even think about touching my abnormal skin."
"He never…" Sirius began, but Harry cut him off.
"No," Harry replied fiercely. "Azkaban or not, I would have damn well crucio'ed the fat bastard if he got his blubber anywhere near me when I was even half conscious." Sirius smiled a bit. Everyone else seemed a bit better, too. This meant a lot less scarring they would have to work through to gain Harry's trust, though there was still quite a bit if his beating was any indication. And dealing with the rest of the wizarding world would be horrible for him for awhile. The rumors would be phenomenal if this was what the reporters were declaring.
"You feel better now that I was only beaten to death," Harry said with sarcasm, but his bright smile softened his edge. Sirius smiled at his godson, whose eyes, he noticed, were oddly bright and glittery.
"I'll be setting strict rules next year at Hogwarts. It's necessary with Voldemort back, and I can guarantee that the first person who mocks your home life will be have a year's worth of detention, and that will include any mention of that article. After last night, I dare say Snape, himself, might expel Malfoy for a rude comment. What happened to you is no laughing matter, and I don't plan to let it become one, Mr. Potter."
Harry nodded gratefully to Dumbledore before he began to feel himself being spent. He cuddled into the blankets and began to fall asleep. Sirius transformed again with a slight pop and cuddled onto his godsons feet again, as though to reassure himself that Harry was still there. Everyone else smiled at the small boy before they took up their chairs and waited. The doctor promised to let them know when Harry was stable. So they waited yet again. This time for the doctors.
