Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does. I merely enjoy playing in her sandbox.
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Chapter 1: Well, this is new
Harry walked through the door to Number 12 Grimmauld Place. The troll leg had been removed years ago, as had the harridan's portrait in the main hall. For a 45-year-old man, Harry felt far older. His hair was already turning grey, although it still refused to be tamed by any method he'd tried over the years. Taking off his coat to hang by the front door to dry, he allowed his weary shoulders to slump a bit in the comfort of his own home. He didn't have to show a strong front here.
After the war with Voldemort was over, Harry had been hailed as Wizarding Britain's savior yet again. They gave him a new title, The-Man-Who-Conquered. He hated it, but there was little he could do. It took him years to accept the fact that witches and wizards would always be sheep, being shepherded to and fro by whoever had their attention at the time. Hermione fought against that fact for years, trying to have laws changed or repealed by the Ministry and Wizengamot. Eventually, she stopped trying, deciding that it wasn't worth the added stress in her life.
After going back to finish his NEWT year at Hogwarts, Harry decided that he didn't want to spend the rest of his life chasing after criminals and dark arts practitioners. He'd paid any debt to society, and then some, already. With that path removed, he looked at his other options. Having a year of schooling that didn't involve a mystery to solve and the school to save had been perfect, and Harry had learned that without all the distractions he actually enjoyed learning magic. Without the added weight on his shoulders, he could lose himself in the work and take pleasure in his own accomplishments. With that in mind, Harry approached Headmistress McGonagall about the possibility of pursuing a Mastery.
She had several recommendations for him, people he could reach out to for an apprenticeship. It took Harry five years, but he ended up with Masteries in Defense and Potions. The first because it was something he was naturally good at. The second as a way to honor a man he would never like, but one he respected above all others. Even more than Dumbledore.
Harry sat down at his kitchen table. His dinner appeared in front of him. A simple beef stew with freshly baked bread and a small caesar salad. He was always grateful for his house elf friends. Dobby and Kreacher had passed on, during and after the war, but others had eventually replaced them. Currently, he played host to four house elves, Toppy being the one in charge of his daily needs. Making sure he ate and taking care of the laundry and his rooms. Finishing his dinner, he thanked her for her efforts, smiling as his plates disappeared as soon as he stood up from the table.
Making his way upstairs, he quietly opened the door to his current room. It was once Sirius's before he ran away from his mother, and Harry had taken to using it after losing…her. Memories of a beautiful blond face with piercing ice blue eyes, sharing a smile she only shared with him. He still dreamed about her, about the life they should have had. He'd bought the ring just two days before she was taken from him. It was an accident, nobody's fault, but losing her had nearly broken him.
"Daphne…", he whispered. Tears started to fall down his cheeks. He let them.
Several minutes later, he had no more tears left. He was still tired and knew that he'd have another long day tomorrow. Even though he wasn't teaching at Hogwarts anymore, he still taught privately to some of the bright new minds of the current generation. Minerva always reached out to him about several students each year that she felt were worth the time and effort to be nurtured. He generally only took on two or three at a time, and never a full-on apprenticeship. But he was still respected enough that anyone he taught was able to pursue their own Masteries based on his recommendation. He did enjoy teaching, he just couldn't do it at Hogwarts anymore. He was too visible there.
He took a deep breath and began to disrobe before slipping into his bed for the night. Like many nights before, he dreamed of her. Their trips around Britain, exploring both magical and mundane sites. Their first kiss, under the stars in Edinburgh. Months later when he brought her home and she stayed the night for the first time. And finally, the night he lost her, an accident in London on a rainy night. She'd been on her way to meet him at their favorite restaurant when it happened. Slipping on the slick cobblestone and into the road, her head cracked on the curb as she fell. He didn't hear about it until an hour later when an Auror came to find him.
Finally, the dreams faded away, and he slept on until the morning.
-=BREAK=-
He woke up feeling a little strange. His back hurt, like he'd slept with something poking into it. His vision was blurry, which hadn't happened since he'd developed a potion to fix his own sight as his Mastery Thesis, and there was a pressure building in his head he hadn't felt for years.
Groaning out loud, he tossed his bed covers off and slid his legs over the edge. His eyes were still blurry enough that he couldn't see, but he could make out enough to know that this wasn't his room. Cursing under his breath, he called for Toppy. Nothing happened. He called for Toppy again. Still nothing. Grumbling about how he had never had this problem before, he just called out for his elf. That got a response, but it was not anything he expected.
"The great Harry Potter sir calls for his elf! What can Dobby be doing for Harry Potter sir!?" the voice of his long-dead friend was clear and full of excitement like he always was. It was also impossible, because Dobby had been dead for almost 30 years.
"That's a poor joke to play on me first thing in the morning, Toppy. Please revert to your normal voice and then tell me where I am and how I got here." He directed, a little more harshly than normal. But then, Toppy had started it.
"This is being my normal voice, great Harry Potter sir, me not being able to change it to something else. And yous being in your room, Harry Potter sir." came the nervous response. Harry looked at the elf with squinted eyes and was surprised when the elf grabbed something from what he assumed was the desk next to the bed and handed it to him. Realizing they were glasses, and not just glasses, but very good replicas of what he wore when he was younger, he began to wonder what was going on. Considering his vision was bad enough to warrant glasses of any kind at the moment, he put them on, only to gasp when he saw the elf in front of him didn't just sound like Dobby, he looked like him too.
"How is this possible? You died!" he gasped out, before seeing where he was. If he wasn't sitting down already, he would have fallen down as his knees gave out. It was a room he recognized well, but not one he'd seen in almost three decades. The smallest bedroom in Number 4 Privet Drive. The house he grew up in.
Also a house he'd purchased through intermediaries so he could demolish it for his 30th birthday. It was very cathartic. Dudley had actually shown up with popcorn and beer to watch in fascination. Good old Dudley, he'd really mellowed after Vernon died from that heart attack around his…20th birthday? That sounds about right.
"BOY!" Speak of the devil. He turned to Dobby and whispered for him to hide himself. He still wasn't sure what was going on, but there was no reason to force anyone to deal with Vernon Dursley, even if this was all some huge hallucination or spell dream. His bedroom door slammed open, and the man he hadn't seen for well over 20 years stood there, in all his purple-faced glory.
"Why is Marge's room not cleaned yet? She'll be here in less than an hour, and I told you to get it done yesterday." the fat man bellowed. His mustache was twitching, which was actually kind of impressive. He stood there waiting for Harry's response, which Harry didn't give for a moment because he was too busy enjoying the little show in front of him. He'd long since gotten over his fear of people like Vernon Dursley, even his counterparts in the magical world. All bark, no real bite.
"Oh, is that today? Wow, I'd almost forgotten about her, the stuck-up bitch. Don't worry Vernon, if you want that room cleaned in under an hour, I'll make sure it happens lickety-split. You'd almost call it magical, how quickly it'll be done." Harry just couldn't help himself. Riling up Vernon was something he'd never purposefully done before, and he sometimes wished he'd taken the chance as he got older. Vernon's mustache twitched even faster, and the vein over his left eye was growing very pronounced. He should really get his blood pressure checked out, that couldn't be healthy.
"Don't you dare mention that freakishness around me, Boy! Just make sure it's done in the next 30 minutes, or I won't be signing any blasted form for your freak school this year." Not willing to wait for any response, the Walrus turned around and stomped away downstairs.
Harry just shrugged and called Dobby back. "I bes here, Harry Potter sir!" Dobby quickly reappeared.
"Hey Dobby, I need a pin, can you get me one?" Harry asked gently. He needed to test something before he did anything else. Within moments Dobby had returned with what Harry recognized as his Aunt's sewing kit. He shrugged, picked up one of the staying pins, and used it to prick his finger. He winced as a bead of blood seeped out. "Well, it's not a dream. I could still be hallucinating, but most potions I'm aware of don't work like this, and nobody knows these details about my childhood." He paused to consider everything around him before he smiled. "If this is some kind of trick, I don't care. I'll enjoy the ride for as long as possible. If I am really back…there are so many things I can do. So much I can change…Daphne!"
Harry refocused on Dobby in front of him. "Dobby, is it possible for you to, even temporarily, block the trace on my magic?" He frowned in disappointment when the little elf shook his head. "Can you use magic here without setting off any sensors like you did…last year?" He asked. Dobby happily nodded his head at that question. "Alright, we'll talk about what you did last year later, and you will not punish yourself," he quickly said before the elf could put his hands in the door jam. "I need you to clean the guest room across the hall. Clean and shine, but make it look like it wasn't done with magic, ok?" Getting an even happier nod he let his friend go.
If Marge "the barge" was coming, this would have to be the summer before his third year. He remembered blowing her up and decided he was going to leave before that happened. Going through what little he had in his room, he organized what he was going to keep and what he was going to leave. It was a pitifully small pile. He grabbed the Hogsmeade form his uncle had mentioned and called out to Dobby again. "Sorry to interrupt you Dobby, but can you pop into the cupboard under the stairs and retrieve my school trunk and broom? I won't be staying here much longer. After that's done, finish cleaning the guest room and I'll call you again soon."
Dobby was the happiest elf, and it showed. He was vibrating at being given orders and quickly retrieved Harry's things in moments. Harry packed everything up before looking up at a small sound and saw Hedwig sitting in her locked cage. "Oh, Hedwig! It's so good to see you again girl! Crap, I'll have to get the cage unlocked when we leave. Can you hold on for just a few minutes?" Seeing her bob her head, though seeming disgruntled that she had to wait, made him smile. He'd missed her. Other owls just couldn't take her place in his heart.
Packed and ready to go, Harry went downstairs to the kitchen. He found his aunt Petunia getting things ready to make tea for when Marge arrived. She looked up and sneered when she saw him. "All done with cleaning, freak?" she spat out. Harry just smiled at her, taking her somewhat by surprise, and handed her the form he was carrying.
"Aunt Petunia, I'll make you a deal. Yes, the guest room will be spotless shortly, but if you'll sign this form for me, I've been invited by a friend to finish out the summer months with their family. You sign, I leave, and the earliest you'll see me again will be next summer." He didn't want to get anyone's hopes up about him not even seeing them then. Too many plans to work through.
She stared at him for a moment before taking the form and grabbing a pen from one of the drawers in the kitchen. Signing it quickly, she handed it back. "Well, off with you then. And even if they kick you out, you needn't come back here."
Harry just smiled even wider as he took the form from her. "Oh, don't worry about that aunt Petunia. I won't." He turned around and went back upstairs to grab his things. No reason to stick around any longer. Walking back down and out the door, he passed a startled Dudley and Vernon. Before they could ask what he was doing, and how he'd gotten his things out of the locked cupboard, he just kept on walking until he got to the bus stop down the block. Pulling his wand out, he called for the Knight Bus.
One unsettling ride later, he was stepping into the Leaky Cauldron and making his way over to Tom. Quietly getting his attention, it was still early and there weren't that many patrons, he asked if he could rent a room for the rest of the summer months. Coming to an agreement on the price, he pulled out enough for the first week, promising to get the remainder after he was able to stop by Gringotts. Then he pulled out an extra galleon. Putting it on the counter he looked at Tom for a moment.
"Tom, as a fully licensed wizard would you be willing to accept this tuition in exchange for overseeing my practice of magic during these next few weeks until I leave for Hogwarts on September 1st?" He asked. It was something he learned when he became a private tutor. By willingly taking tuition from a prospective student, his magic would block the sensors in the Ministry from going off for any magic cast by his underage pupil. It was also how many pureblood homes got around the issue of allowing their children to use magic at home. They just paid their parents a nominal fee, usually taken from their allowance, and they could use magic risk-free for however long the terms dictated.
Tom raised an eyebrow before he smiled and let out a small chuckle. "Heard about that, have you lad? Sure, as long as you promise you won't use any spells you haven't learned yet. I don't mind if you revise a bit before school starts, but don't go trying anything new. I don't want you getting hurt." Harry just smiled and nodded, after which Tom took the gold coin and slipped it into his pocket. Reaching under the counter, he pulled out a key. "You'll be in room 12. It's upstairs towards the back of the hall on your left. I can send food to your room if you'd prefer to avoid the crowds?" He got a nod from Harry. "Alright, lad, you get settled in and let me know if you need anything. Lunch will be in a couple hours yet. If you head out into the alley, just wave at me when you get back and I'll send the food up then."
Harry thanked him and headed up to his room to drop off his luggage and cast a spell to unlock Hedwig's cage, finally getting her free and able to stretch her wings. She jumped up onto his shoulder to groom his hair while he gently scratched under her feathers. He moved over to the window and cast another spell that allowed her to fly in and out without his need to open it every time. He did promise Tom he'd limit himself to spells he already learned. It was just lucky for him that he'd learned quite a few spells over his lifetime.
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Harry spent quite a lot of time in the alley over the next few days. He's sent a quick letter off to Professor McGonagall asking to change his elective of Divination to Ancient Runes. Not that he needed to take the class, he's learned most of the subject from self-study after he'd graduated, but he knew she wouldn't allow him to just drop one of his two new classes. She was a stickler for the rules and tradition, and the rules and tradition said at least two electives.
He didn't wait for a response before going out to collect his school supplies, books included. Seeing how it was the first week of August, he'd come back on his 13th birthday it seemed, the alley didn't have much traffic. He'd only made a quick stop at the bank his first day here. He planned a longer visit next week to check on a few things.
Along with his school supplies, he stopped by a few apothecaries and potion ingredient stores to pick up some additional things. He'd made sure to cast glamours on himself to avoid questions and stares from everyone as he went around. A few extra cauldrons, a new professional-grade potion knife set, along with cutting boards, and enough ingredients to make nutrient potions for himself and Padfoot, along with his own personal eye drop potion to fix his vision issue. He'd stepped out to visit an optometrist on the mundane side and walked out with "prescription" contacts earlier that day. He wanted a ready excuse, and if he told everyone he'd gotten contact lenses, it wouldn't even be a lie. He didn't even feel guilty about the confundus charm he'd used, seeing as he did pay for the visit and lenses.
By August 6th most of his shopping was completed. He'd put off getting clothes until he was finished taking his potions. He was bound to put on some weight, maybe an inch or two, so there was no reason to take care of that yet. He did purchase a simple hooded robe for walking around the alley so he didn't stand out as much. It was later that evening that he had his first visitors.
He should have expected to be found by the Headmaster eventually, what with all those monitors in his office. He made a mental note to have Dobby take care of those before he went back to Hogwarts. Tom just let him know as he came back from another trip to the bookstore to pick up some additional reference books that he had two guests waiting in his room. He thanked the man and said he'd most likely want dinner after they'd left.
When he opened his door, he wasn't surprised to see who his visitors were. Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot in Britain, and Supreme Mugwump of the ICW. He'd learned that the last title was more honorary than functional. He was standing next to Hedwig, scratching her gently as he waited for Harry's return. He wore one of his more reserved robes today, a muted purple with sparkling stars all over.
Standing next to him, somewhat nervously, was a man Harry wished he didn't have to deal with. Cornelius Fudge, current Minister of Magic, and the most worthless leader Harry had ever seen in his life. A weak-willed man whose only useful trait was his ambition to remain in power. Easily bought and paid for by anyone with the galleons to do so, and loyal only to himself. At least he hadn't brought along his pink toad.
"Ah, Harry. So good to see you doing well. I was surprised to learn you weren't staying at your family's home this week. I trust everything is well?" Dumbledore's eyes were already sparkling, a neat trick that drew people's eyes to them and allowed him use of passive Leglimency to tell if they were lying.
"Hello, Professor. I am well, thank you. My uncle's sister came for a visit, and considering the last time I saw her she made some…disparaging remarks about my parentage and expressed her views on the fact that, since they were obviously drunk deadbeats, I would be no better and should have been drowned when I was born. Rather than put up with her again, I worked out other arrangements for the rest of my summer." Harry replied. "And they're my relatives, Professor, not my family."
Dumbledore and Fudge were both taken by surprise at Harry's words. Dumbledore taking on a sad countenance, and Fudge not sure what to say or do so he just stood there like the idiot he was.
"I'm sorry to hear that, Harry. Well, you are here and safe. That is all that matters at present. I'm sure you've heard about the unpleasantness that has happened this summer?" Dumbledore asked.
Harry frowned before 'remembering', "Oh, you mean about Black. Yes, I've heard. The first to escape…Azkaban, was it?" Getting a nod from both men, "Is it something I should be worried about?"
Delighted to have something to contribute, Fudge jumped in. "Not at all, Mr. Potter! The Ministry is doing its best to resolve this issue as quickly as possible. You have absolutely nothing to worry about here." He smiled in what Harry assumed was meant to be a reassuring way but came off as extremely condescending.
"That's great to hear, Mr…?" Hearing the questioning tone, Fudge's cheeks flushed in embarrassment.
"Oh dear me, how forgetful I've become in my old age. Harry, this is Cornelius Fudge, our Minister of Magic. He's in charge of running the Ministry and all its many departments." Dumbledore introduced. "When it came to our attention that you weren't with your fa…with your relatives", he quickly corrected himself when Harry frowned, "he asked to come personally to ensure you were safe and sound."
Harry reached out his hand to Fudge, who accepted it happily. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Minister. I'm sorry I didn't recognize you. Having grown up away from the magical world, I haven't had much opportunity to meet many people outside of the shops here in the alley and at Hogwarts." Harry didn't react to the slight wince from Dumbledore at this statement. As much as he missed the man and his admittedly wise counsel on certain things, he still had a hard time accepting his decisions in regard to Harry and where he grew up.
"Nothing to worry about Mr. Potter, nothing at all!" Fudge replied. Harry was ready for the idiot to leave, his simpering was getting on his nerves. As if he felt the same, Dumbledore indicated to the Minister that they should let Harry settle in for the night and his dinner. Before they left, he reached into a pocket and removed an envelope.
"Professor McGonagall asked me to play messenger when she discovered I'd be seeing you today. I believe this includes your booklist for the upcoming year. Good evening, Harry." He walked out behind the Minister and gently shut the door.
Harry waited a minute before pulling out his wand and casting some detection spells around the room. He only found one monitoring charm on his nightstand. It looked like a simple one many parents used for their children to be alerted to when they came and left their room. It was harmless enough, so he left it alone. His dinner arrived shortly after, so he grabbed one of his few remaining nutrient potions not intended for his godfather and dug right in.
He opened his letter after dinner was finished, and found that Dumbledore was correct. His school shopping list was inside, along with a reply from his head of house that she was happy to accommodate his change in electives. That made his life easier. He'd rather not cause problems by skipping Divination at the start of the year.
Checking the time, and finding it was only 1945, he decided it was time to start his plans with regard to his godfather. Step one would be simple, but he hoped he didn't give the poor man a heart attack. He pulled out his wand. "Expecto Patronum," he whispered. A silvery mist extended from his wand, before taking on the form of a proud ghostly silver stag. "Padfoot, bunker down at the Shrieking Shack. You'll find potions and food there. Be patient, Wormtail will be caught shortly and you'll win your freedom. I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." With his message ready, the stag quietly charged out into the night in search of its recipient.
With most of his night still ahead of him, Harry settled down with his school books to review what he was supposed to have learned in his first two years, as well as what he would be taught this year. He had so many things engrained into reflex by now that he'd have to consciously make the effort to not stand out. With few exceptions, most of his spells were done silently, a habit he really didn't want to break.
This was going to be an annoying year.
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Sirius Black was exhausted. Swimming through the icy waters to get away from Azkaban was almost more than his failing body could handle. Only the burning desire to catch the traitor kept him going long enough to get to shore. He spent the next few days as Padfoot, scrounging up whatever food he could find and recovering what strength he could. He'd finally made the decision to check in on Harry before making his way north to Hogwarts. The only problem being, he wasn't sure where he was.
It was pure luck that he'd seen Vernon Dursley getting into his car in London. Remembering the unpleasant man from James and Lily's wedding, he filched a phone book from one of the nearby businesses to look up the man's address. While unlikely that Harry would be there, it was easier to search in the muggle world right now.
It took him a day to get there, but the only people he saw in the home were Vernon, Lily's sister Petunia, their unbelievably overweight son, and a woman who looked enough like Vernon that she could only be his sister, mustache and all. He'd almost written this off as a loss when he heard the drunk woman start making loud comments about a nephew.
"Vernon, where is that no good nephew of yours again? I was hoping he'd be here to take care of Ripper for me. Ripper always did enjoy chasing that runt around." the woman was saying. It was clear from her flushed cheeks that she'd already had a few glasses of the wine she was sipping.
"Oh, the worthless boy ran off with some friends of his for the rest of the summer. Worthless layabout, never expressing any gratitude to us for putting him up and feeding him all his life." Vernon answered, also somewhat flushed with a small glass of whiskey in his hand.
"I keep telling you, you should have just gotten rid of him ages ago. Why, it's like when you're dealing with breeding dogs like mine. As soon as a bitch has one bad litter, they're not worth keeping around. And considering how poorly that nephew, Harry, has turned out, it's just proof that his parents truly were worthless drunks. Died in a drunk driving accident they causes, didn't they?" she was starting to slur her words as she downed another glass of wine.
Sirius didn't think his rage could surpass what he felt about the traitor, Wormtail, but it was quite easily done as he listened to these…people couldn't describe them. Monsters, worse than his mother ever was. If he'd had a wand on him, there would have been an actual reason for him to go back to Azkaban that night. He almost charged in without one, but something appeared that distracted him enough to save their worthless lives.
It was Prongs. Standing in the street, unnoticed by all the muggles around, was the ghostly visage of his best friend's animagus form. Shock and fear both began to run through him as the stag came the last few steps towards him and then spoke.
"Padfoot, bunker down at the Shrieking Shack. You'll find potions and food there. Be patient, Wormtail will be caught shortly and you'll win your freedom. I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
Sirius didn't move for 5 solid minutes after Prongs left. Not Prongs, he knew, but a patronus that looked just like him. He didn't know who it was, but if they knew his marauder name, knew about wormtail, and knew that phrase, it was someone he felt he could trust. He was already going to head that direction, but if someone was going to leave him with supplies he'd be stupid not to accept.
Turning north, he started the long journey.
-=BREAK=-
End Chapter 1.
Author's note: Chapter 1 is finished, and the scene is set. There won't be any explanation on how Harry is sent back in time. Frankly, it doesn't matter to the story. He's there, and he's got people he's going to save.
