Hide and Seek Oblivious
AN: Wishful thinking…
Summary:
AU fic. The Dursleys know they can't let Harry go to Hogwarts. So, they change their identities, change their location, hide away, hoping to never be found, long before the letters start to come... But little do they know, a stranger hiding himself willfind them, and reveal more secrets than anyone ever knew…r/r!
Disclaimer: I own nothing much, except the plot. Don't take it please. : )
Chapter 1
Harry felt a sigh escape his lips as he peered through the tiny window near the floor of his room. The tutor was here again for Dudley, like he was everyday. He just didn't understand why the tutor couldn't teach him as well. He needed to learn too…Harry would attempt to listen to Dudley's lesson everyday through the walls, but they were thick wood. He barely ever caught anything at all except Dudley's babyish whining.
Well, he knew why the Dursleys didn't want him to be taught too. They didn't want anyone to find out about him. That's why they had changed their names. That's why they had moved out to this silly little cabin out in the woods.
But what was so special about him? He was Harry. They'd always hated him. But what had he ever done? Besides getting stuck with no parents?
He knew everyone's guardians weren't like this. They were supposed to love you. They were supposed to give you presents on birthdays, and rounds of applause at good marks. They weren't supposed to lock you in your room everyday with nothing to do. They weren't supposed to never talk to you, except to tell you to back up from the door, because they're bringing in supper. Harry knew it wasn't supposed to be this way.
Problem was, he didn't know why it was. And until he figured it out, and fixed it, he was stuck looking out the little window, at the still trees and animals, at the tutor slam his car door and come in to teach Dudley something he'd never know…
He remembered the light hitting him…definitely, he definitely did. But he couldn't let himself go. Everything was black, he wasn't anything…but he could hear her scream, hear him snarl. He wanted so bad to just get up and save her, and save his son…and suddenly, his legs won their feeling back, his hands, his eyes flashed open…
It wasn't anything he could explain, but when he heard him whisper the second Avada Kedavara, he knew he couldn't save them. He sat up, realizing the house was in flames…it was too late to save them. But he could save himself…
He didn't know how long it had been since then. He'd found shelter in random muggle places for homeless people. He'd wandered the woods very long. He just kept walking. Everything was gone. He remembered what Voldemort had told him before he'd thrown the spell at him.
"It's all over, Potter. You're silly little rat friend sold you out. The werewolf has been disposed of, and Black will go to Azkaban...and soon, your son and wife will be dead at my feet. What do you have left to live for, Potter? Just let me put you out of your…" He gave a laugh, a cruel, raspy, laugh that made him squint his red eyes, made his face crinkle, made his thin lips smile, "Misery…"
He hated himself. This was all his fault. He had convinced Lily Peter would be the better secret keeper.
"Oh, James," She had said in that sweet beautiful voice that he would never hear again, "I don't know. Sirius is trustworthy. We know that. Peter…he turns into a rat, doesn't he, James?"
"Lily, what does that have to do with anything?"
"Well, I definitely remember doing research on animagi after I found out you and your friends had tried the stunt to become ones. It said that the animal you are proves the kind of person you are. Sirius is a big black dog. Dogs are loyal, rats are…rats."
"How can you say that about Peter? He's always been there for us!"
"So has Remus. And you find no trouble in condemning him, do you?" She'd snapped, and her eyes had flashed in that way they did when she viciously knew she was right.
Why had he? If he'd just trusted Remus…trusted Lily, who was always right…if he'd just seen there was more rat to Peter than he'd ever suspected…maybe Remus would be alive, Sirius would be free, Harry would have lived past two, and he would be able to hear Lily's voice again…
He was haunted by it day and night. Maybe he should have just died that night. But he knew he had something left to do…
Kill Peter.
Harry was doodling something on his hand with a thin magic marker he'd found next to his mattress set on the floor, and he heard his Aunt Petunias pumps clicking outside the door.
"Here's your dinner. I'll be back later, for the plate." Harry noticed his Aunt Petunia's hair was done up with lots of little bobby pins, little blond curls falling from everywhere. She was wearing a fancy, shiny dress.
"Sorry if I'm out of line, Aunt Petunia…" Harry began his voice hoarse from barely ever talking.
"Aunt Petrucia, Henry." She hissed, but stood in the doorway, waiting for him to finish.
"Well, Aunt Petrucia" He drawled, "I couldn't help but notice how…" ugh, it stung to say "Nice you look tonight. Nicer than usual." It was conversation, something he was desperate for.
Aunt Petunia did something she rarely did, and let her lips curve upwards at him, "Thank you, Henry."
"Are you…" He dared to ask… "Going somewhere?"
Her smile dropped, "Not that it's any of your business, but your Uncle Viktor, Derek (AN: I couldn't think of anything that sounded like Dudley!) and I are going out for dinner. Aunt Marge's in town today, and we decided to take her out to a very fancy restaurant." She looked around his empty room (except a closet, a mattress on the floor and a door to the bathroom) and sniffed, "These floors could use a good scrub. Don't you have some sponges or a mop and some cleaner in your closet?" She flipped her head, a few bobby pins flying carelessly out of her hair and onto Harry's floor, and she slammed the door. Harry heard a snap and knew the door was locked, and when he heard her heels' clicks blend into the silence around him, he knew she was gone.
He watched as the engine to their car roared, and the SUV zipped out onto the trail out of the deep woods, where Harry was stuck.
He actually considered mopping on the floor for a few moments, after he had finished eating. It would give him something to do, instead of sitting around thinking about his depressing situation, which on nights alone he usually ended up doing. At least when people were here, he could usually overhear a T.V. show, or a conversation between Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon (he could easily hear things happening downstairs, because of the vent.)
But just as he was walking over to his closet to get out a bucket and mop, his eyes were caught…by gleaming.
Aunt Petunia had been wearing bobby pins with little jewels encrusted on the tips. And it hit Harry, right in the face.
He could pick the lock!
Harry couldn't help but laugh. Just laugh out of pure joy.
He could definitely do it. He used to pick the lock all the time at the old house, when Uncle Vernon gave him harsh punishment and wouldn't feed him, so he'd sneak out and raid the fridge.
But the possibilities were endless here…he could watch T.V. He could play a computer game. He could take a bubble bath even! He could…oh gosh. He could go outside.
Harry's heart flounced up in his chest and he ran over to the bobby pins by the door.
But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't pick the lock. The jewels on the edge of the bobby pins enabled him from doing it properly.
He needed to get out of this room! He cried desperately in his mind, burying his head in his hands.
When he looked up, the door was mysteriously open.
Harry grinned ear to ear. He threw his shoes off, and slid down the wood floored hallway. He turned on the T.V., and watched the news for a few minutes, then clicked it off. He went to the fridge, and ate a chocolate bar.
It was like a dream.
Harry was sitting at the table in the carefully tiled kitchen, indulging in a slice of watermelon, when he spotted the calendar. It said July, and had flamingos cooling off in a pool of water as the picture. He squinted, at a date that was circled, and something was written beneath it in Aunt Petunia's ridiculously neat hand writing.
July 31, go out with Marge for dinner.That was today. He was thirteen today!
He needed to get out of here, he decided. It was getting to be too much when he didn't even know what day it was, let alone that it was his birthday.
He got up from the table, slipping a pair of shoes on over his holey grey socks, and heaved a sigh as he felt the cool summer breeze hit his thirteen year old face.
AN: With an AU fic, I can do whatever the hell I want. That's sort of a rule, I think. The plot is completely in my hands…there aren't things that can't happen; it's pretty much completely in my hands. Yeah, I know there's cold hard evidence that James is dead (such as him coming out of the wand) but guess what? I really don't care at all. If you don't get why, read the whole AU thing again. I really hope you liked it, and want to know what you think! Make sure to drop a review with a flame, a critique, an appraisal, a suggestion (remember, I can do anything I want, so I might listen to my cool reviewers if they have an idea I like!) I don't care. I always appreciate anyone's input. I'll update soon! Thanks!