Part One: Return to Diagon Alley
Magda Mollbury was sitting in the Leaky Cauldron nursing another tankard of ale. Suddenly a tall, well-muscled, tanned young man with an unruly shock of black-as-pitch hair and emerald green eyes appeared. "'Ello! I wasn't 'cepting any vistors!" She smiled.
The young man's eyes turned towards her. The look he gave her silenced her. No, not the look, she amended. The emptiness of his look silenced her.
Without a word, he stood and walked to the entrance of Diagon Alley.
She ordered another tankard.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ His first stop was to Gringotts. He still, a force of habit he had been unable to break over the course of five years, carried his little key with him. Always. Anne had (his eyes watered over that past tense and then he sniffed them back) always teased him about the little gold key he always wore hanging from his neck.
"What is that for, Harry Michael?" She would ask, pretty blue eyes twinkling with mirth. "Your secret diary? The one written with how much you love me?"
"Of course, Annie Mae," he would tease back, before catching her in a tight, passionate embrace.
The goblin was staring at him. Harry shook out of his reverie. "I'm here to take some money out of my safe."
"Of course, Mr. Potter. Do you have your key?" the goblin asked. Harry nodded and presented it to him. The goblin took it and inspected the key. He nodded and called another goblin to escort him down to the vault.
Harry said nothing during the whole ride. The goblin didn't mind or didn't care.
Once he reached his long-locked safe, Harry took out enough funds to get him to Hogwarts, to get him properly outfitted and equipped.
To buy another broom.
He pause, unsure if he should take out the only non-monetary item in the safe. He did.
His father's invisibility cloak.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Harry frowned at the massive amount of children running around the streets. What day was it? He mentally asked himself. He winced as he remembered.
August 28th, three days before the Hogwarts Express took its precious cargo for the very first time, for some, the very last for others. Either way, one of his problems would be solved. Getting to Hogwarts.
Writing a quick note to Professor Dumbledore, Harry sent it off with one of the common post owls, before realizing that he had just left Hedwig without any food or water. He sighed. The window was open, she'd be at Hagrid's before tomorrow.
Tiredly, he and his packages made the voyage up to his room in the Leaky Cauldron.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"He's here," an unfamiliar voice whispered. "Harry Potter is back."
"Did you hear? His Muggle wife had been murdered.probably by the former hero himself," a sarcastic voice not-so-quietly said. "Using the damned unforgivable."
"Unless you are Harry-bloody-Potter," the first voice cut in.
"Excuse me," Harry interrupted, sick of hearing the accusations. He *had* gotten rid of the one threat to the wizarding world. It was just because it wasn't by *their* standards that he had become an outcast. "I'm trying to sleep."
Stunned silent, the two men nodded dumbly.
Harry went back into his room, shut the door. "Accio wand," he whispered, wand-less magic easy for him, easier than anything else in the magical world. His wand jumped into his hand. "Silencio room," he brokenly whispered. A strange mist encircled the room, making it sound-proof.
Sobs, great racking sobs, erupted from his mouth. "Anne," he screamed. "Ron!"
"Anne.Ron."
The great, once-hero, Harry Potter sobbed himself to sleep that night, visions of Anne and Ron lingering in his mind.
"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron's eleven-year-old voice said in a tone of reverent awe and wonder in it. "Oh - well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes. And have you really got - you know..." he asked, pointing to Harry's scar. Excited eyes stared at the lightning bolt scar. "So that's were You-Know-Who--?"
The scenes jumped and he wasn't on the Hogwarts Express anymore. Suddenly they were in a manor house, a great big, cold manor house. Harry winced in his sleep, he knew where they were.
Hermione suddenly appeared. "Harry, this isn't a good idea. We should wait for the Aurors."
"Oh, put a sock in it, Mione!" Ron's voice, much deeper than before, rang out. "There's nothing the three of us can't handle!"
"The Three Musketeers!" Harry injected. Their jesting chased away the slight fear each had in deep inside them. Voldemort. After one of Hemione's more ingenious ideas, they were able to place a tracking spell on Voldemort, using Harry's scar as the necessary link.
"Afterall, it *is* a psychic link," Hermione bossily said.
"Hello.Harry Potter," Voldemort's funny-sounding voice rasped out. "You brought company."
"Company?" Ron scoffed. "More like backup!"
"I couldn't have put it better myself," Voldemort said, smirking. "All your life, Ronald Weasley, you have spent your whole life always one step behind somebody. You could have been great. But, alas, it is too late for change."
Before any of them could react, Voldemort lifted his wand, the brother wand to Harry's, in his own ingenious idea. He couldn't use his own wand against Harry, but he could against the people Harry loved. "Aveda Kedavra!"
The flash of green light.
Hemione's scream of shocked torment. Harry watched as Voldemort turned his attention to her. "NOOO!" he screamed, or maybe just imagined he screamed, Harry still didn't know. Without thinking, he grabbed Ron's fallen wand and uttered the same words Voldemort just uttered. "AVEDA KEDAVRA!"
The scene jumped again. He was living in America this time, living as a Muggle, going to a strange place called a 'university,' Michigan State University, to be exact. He was lost, studying magic his whole life had not prepared him for living as a Muggle. He bought a computer, his first purchase in the Muggle world, and donated his beloved Thunderbolt, giving it to the next Gryffindor Seeker.
He worked out a lot, filling his gangly frame with muscle. He ran a lot more. He didn't make any friends. He didn't want to make any more friends. It was too risky. Hermione, they tried to stay friends, but it was impossible.
He cut off all ties to the wizarding world, giving Hedwig to Hagrid to take care of.
Harry ignored the whispers about him, whenever he went into the cafeteria for his meals. He tried not to speak too much in class, not to ask too many questions in public. He went to help room hours, learned his Muggle lessons.
The end of his freshman year, Harry finally opened up. His roommate, a Muggle, Mitch, asked him out of the blue one day, "Potter what the fuck is up your ass?"
"Fuck off, Redding," Harry answered, not bothering to look up from his calc book.
"No, you fuck off, Potter. You and your 'higher than thou' British Royalty attitude. You fucking suck, man."
"You don't know the half of it," Harry agreed.
The two roommates, who had been living, all year, trying to ignore each other, stared at one another, before laughing. They laughed harder than either had before in their life. And when they were done, Mitch opened his mini-fridge and pulled out a beer for himself. He hesitated before pulling one out for Harry as well.
"Cheers mate," Harry said, before taking a long swallow. He promptly spit it out.
The scene jumped once more. End of his senior year. A small, classy, list- party in his and Mitch's apartment.
"Potter, did you invite that babe over there?" John, one of their friends asked, pointing to a petite little thing with honey-blonde hair and startling blue eyes.
"No," Harry said, unable to take his eyes off of her. He had long since gotten contact lenses and his own startling eyes were visible.
"Hi! I'm Anne Hudson," she introduced herself. "I know, I know, I wasn't invited. But.I heard you talking about it and.I wanted to get to know you better."
John smiled cockily. "I'm John Mackette."
"Not you," Anne dismissed him with a wave of her small, ring-less hand. "You."
"Harry Potter," Harry said, smiling.
"I love you."
"I love you."
"Who are you, Harry?"
"Where did you come from?"
"Why don't you have a past?"
"Do you, Anne Hudson take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, till death do you part?"
"Do you, Harry Potter take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? To cherish and love, till death do you part?"
"Till death do you part."
"HARRY!"
"Harry!"
"Harry."
Magda Mollbury was sitting in the Leaky Cauldron nursing another tankard of ale. Suddenly a tall, well-muscled, tanned young man with an unruly shock of black-as-pitch hair and emerald green eyes appeared. "'Ello! I wasn't 'cepting any vistors!" She smiled.
The young man's eyes turned towards her. The look he gave her silenced her. No, not the look, she amended. The emptiness of his look silenced her.
Without a word, he stood and walked to the entrance of Diagon Alley.
She ordered another tankard.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ His first stop was to Gringotts. He still, a force of habit he had been unable to break over the course of five years, carried his little key with him. Always. Anne had (his eyes watered over that past tense and then he sniffed them back) always teased him about the little gold key he always wore hanging from his neck.
"What is that for, Harry Michael?" She would ask, pretty blue eyes twinkling with mirth. "Your secret diary? The one written with how much you love me?"
"Of course, Annie Mae," he would tease back, before catching her in a tight, passionate embrace.
The goblin was staring at him. Harry shook out of his reverie. "I'm here to take some money out of my safe."
"Of course, Mr. Potter. Do you have your key?" the goblin asked. Harry nodded and presented it to him. The goblin took it and inspected the key. He nodded and called another goblin to escort him down to the vault.
Harry said nothing during the whole ride. The goblin didn't mind or didn't care.
Once he reached his long-locked safe, Harry took out enough funds to get him to Hogwarts, to get him properly outfitted and equipped.
To buy another broom.
He pause, unsure if he should take out the only non-monetary item in the safe. He did.
His father's invisibility cloak.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Harry frowned at the massive amount of children running around the streets. What day was it? He mentally asked himself. He winced as he remembered.
August 28th, three days before the Hogwarts Express took its precious cargo for the very first time, for some, the very last for others. Either way, one of his problems would be solved. Getting to Hogwarts.
Writing a quick note to Professor Dumbledore, Harry sent it off with one of the common post owls, before realizing that he had just left Hedwig without any food or water. He sighed. The window was open, she'd be at Hagrid's before tomorrow.
Tiredly, he and his packages made the voyage up to his room in the Leaky Cauldron.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"He's here," an unfamiliar voice whispered. "Harry Potter is back."
"Did you hear? His Muggle wife had been murdered.probably by the former hero himself," a sarcastic voice not-so-quietly said. "Using the damned unforgivable."
"Unless you are Harry-bloody-Potter," the first voice cut in.
"Excuse me," Harry interrupted, sick of hearing the accusations. He *had* gotten rid of the one threat to the wizarding world. It was just because it wasn't by *their* standards that he had become an outcast. "I'm trying to sleep."
Stunned silent, the two men nodded dumbly.
Harry went back into his room, shut the door. "Accio wand," he whispered, wand-less magic easy for him, easier than anything else in the magical world. His wand jumped into his hand. "Silencio room," he brokenly whispered. A strange mist encircled the room, making it sound-proof.
Sobs, great racking sobs, erupted from his mouth. "Anne," he screamed. "Ron!"
"Anne.Ron."
The great, once-hero, Harry Potter sobbed himself to sleep that night, visions of Anne and Ron lingering in his mind.
"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron's eleven-year-old voice said in a tone of reverent awe and wonder in it. "Oh - well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes. And have you really got - you know..." he asked, pointing to Harry's scar. Excited eyes stared at the lightning bolt scar. "So that's were You-Know-Who--?"
The scenes jumped and he wasn't on the Hogwarts Express anymore. Suddenly they were in a manor house, a great big, cold manor house. Harry winced in his sleep, he knew where they were.
Hermione suddenly appeared. "Harry, this isn't a good idea. We should wait for the Aurors."
"Oh, put a sock in it, Mione!" Ron's voice, much deeper than before, rang out. "There's nothing the three of us can't handle!"
"The Three Musketeers!" Harry injected. Their jesting chased away the slight fear each had in deep inside them. Voldemort. After one of Hemione's more ingenious ideas, they were able to place a tracking spell on Voldemort, using Harry's scar as the necessary link.
"Afterall, it *is* a psychic link," Hermione bossily said.
"Hello.Harry Potter," Voldemort's funny-sounding voice rasped out. "You brought company."
"Company?" Ron scoffed. "More like backup!"
"I couldn't have put it better myself," Voldemort said, smirking. "All your life, Ronald Weasley, you have spent your whole life always one step behind somebody. You could have been great. But, alas, it is too late for change."
Before any of them could react, Voldemort lifted his wand, the brother wand to Harry's, in his own ingenious idea. He couldn't use his own wand against Harry, but he could against the people Harry loved. "Aveda Kedavra!"
The flash of green light.
Hemione's scream of shocked torment. Harry watched as Voldemort turned his attention to her. "NOOO!" he screamed, or maybe just imagined he screamed, Harry still didn't know. Without thinking, he grabbed Ron's fallen wand and uttered the same words Voldemort just uttered. "AVEDA KEDAVRA!"
The scene jumped again. He was living in America this time, living as a Muggle, going to a strange place called a 'university,' Michigan State University, to be exact. He was lost, studying magic his whole life had not prepared him for living as a Muggle. He bought a computer, his first purchase in the Muggle world, and donated his beloved Thunderbolt, giving it to the next Gryffindor Seeker.
He worked out a lot, filling his gangly frame with muscle. He ran a lot more. He didn't make any friends. He didn't want to make any more friends. It was too risky. Hermione, they tried to stay friends, but it was impossible.
He cut off all ties to the wizarding world, giving Hedwig to Hagrid to take care of.
Harry ignored the whispers about him, whenever he went into the cafeteria for his meals. He tried not to speak too much in class, not to ask too many questions in public. He went to help room hours, learned his Muggle lessons.
The end of his freshman year, Harry finally opened up. His roommate, a Muggle, Mitch, asked him out of the blue one day, "Potter what the fuck is up your ass?"
"Fuck off, Redding," Harry answered, not bothering to look up from his calc book.
"No, you fuck off, Potter. You and your 'higher than thou' British Royalty attitude. You fucking suck, man."
"You don't know the half of it," Harry agreed.
The two roommates, who had been living, all year, trying to ignore each other, stared at one another, before laughing. They laughed harder than either had before in their life. And when they were done, Mitch opened his mini-fridge and pulled out a beer for himself. He hesitated before pulling one out for Harry as well.
"Cheers mate," Harry said, before taking a long swallow. He promptly spit it out.
The scene jumped once more. End of his senior year. A small, classy, list- party in his and Mitch's apartment.
"Potter, did you invite that babe over there?" John, one of their friends asked, pointing to a petite little thing with honey-blonde hair and startling blue eyes.
"No," Harry said, unable to take his eyes off of her. He had long since gotten contact lenses and his own startling eyes were visible.
"Hi! I'm Anne Hudson," she introduced herself. "I know, I know, I wasn't invited. But.I heard you talking about it and.I wanted to get to know you better."
John smiled cockily. "I'm John Mackette."
"Not you," Anne dismissed him with a wave of her small, ring-less hand. "You."
"Harry Potter," Harry said, smiling.
"I love you."
"I love you."
"Who are you, Harry?"
"Where did you come from?"
"Why don't you have a past?"
"Do you, Anne Hudson take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, till death do you part?"
"Do you, Harry Potter take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? To cherish and love, till death do you part?"
"Till death do you part."
"HARRY!"
"Harry!"
"Harry."
