Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter, duh
Au: Harry Potter killed Voldemort when he was one! So no Voldemort anymore but Harry Potter still has his scar to always remember the night he killed him
Note: Wrote this story at 3am, sorry for the mistakes!!
The boy was eleven years old. Which was a good age in his opinion. He was old enough to go to Middle school, could go down the street on his own without people worrying and was finally allowed to have his own phone. And a beautiful one at that. Not that it was as new and modern as Amy's but it was still very special.
His mama had gifted it to him.
But his fantastic year where he had already made so many plans and had so many expectations of was crushed by one, innocent, letter bought by a beautiful brown bird. A letter that made him officially a wizard. When he received it, he had hide it in his room in hope that his mama and papa wouldn't see it but... Obviously they had. And now, he was sitting by the window of a train, sulking and day dreaming about all the things he could have done today. But now, Amy just had to be an annoying older sister and had to have as a hobby looking in his stuff. His family sucked.
As the train started moving, the little sulking boy of eleven stared at all the waving families without seeing his and his already bad mood only worsened. They didn't come.
The door suddenly opened, distracting him from the window, and in came a red-haired boy with some dirt on the side of the nose. He didn't seem interesting so the boy simply looked away, seeing from the corner of the eye the red-haired sitting across his seat.
"I'm Ron by the way." His mama always told him that looking at someone talking to him was polite. He did just that, even though he wasn't interested. The red haired was smiling, his smile a little too excited for him to be comfortable. "Ron Weasley."
"Samael Sullivan..."
The conversation did not follow and he was relieved. Sam could have said the name the letter used, but it didn't seem right.. His mama and papa had given him his name for a reason and his bore it with pride.
The red haired - Ron, he tried to remind himself - tried to engage in some talking but his answers were so cold and short that his attempts didn't last long. Sam simply was too angry (or saddened?) that his family hadn't come to tell him goodbye for the year. He knew they had to stay hidden, that no one should know that they existed because it was too dangerous, that bad people were waiting for him to be hurt, but it didn't change how he felt. Even Amy, who usually never listened to their parents, didn't come. Never before did he feel so lonely. So... abandoned.
Trying to change his thoughts to something nicer, he looked out by the window, taking in everything he was seeing and promising himself that as soon as he could, he would write a letter to his family to tell them about the beautiful lakes and mountains and villages and bridges. His mama took his phone away when he received his letter, at his great deception... But maybe, if they knew what the outside was made of, if they knew that it wasn't just a garden and a playground, they could move! Maybe, he wouldn't have to go this school and learn about magic and have to leave all his friends and Amy.
He couldn't wait to write to them...
But just as brutally as Ron had appeared, the doors slid opened once more and a bushy haired girl popped up. She seems as annoyed as he was, but for a completely different reason.
"Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville lost one."
Ron shrugged. "No?"
And that was the end of it. The bushy haired girl, who hadn't even bothered to give a name, left and they were left to their own device.
Apparently, her mama hadn't taught her the basic of politeness. So, even if he wasn't in the mood for anything and had always hated public confrontations, Sam jumped out of his seat and ran out to reach the girl who was not very far.
Apparently, searching for a toad required taking very small steps. Who knew?
"You're very rude, you know?"
The bushy haired girl turned around, her eyes wide, her eyebrows lifted, and her face screaming shock.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"You barged in, asked for some toad, didn't give a name or apologised for disturbing us for nothing and then leaving! My mama would really scowl at me if I did that you know because its very rude."
Bushy haired girl started frowning and chewing on her bottom lip and he started to wonder if she was about to scream back or cry. Either ones were possible, even if he had more experience in dealing with screaming people.
Amy screamed a lot.
"I... I'm Hermione Granger. Sorry, I didn't mean to be like that..."
He nodded because she seemed to have learnt her lesson. He was about to turn around to go sit back but apparently, a certain red haired seemed to have followed him.
And he seemed to be eating some kind of chicken sandwich?
"I'm Ron Weasley."
Hermione seemed absolutely disgusted by the flying food and to be honest, he was to.
If only his mama and papa hadn't insisted so much for him to go to this school, he wouldn't be dealing with those children. If only he was at home, he would be cleaning the house or playing on their phones with Amy... But no, his eleventh year didn't seem to be going in that direction. At all.
"Pleasure."
It wasn't one at all at the tone of her voice.
Hermione, finding the distance between her and the two boys too big, decided to walk closer. And when Sam was confronted with her intense brown eyes, he knew something would happen. Because no one ever looked I his green eyes without some sort of reaction. Luckily, his weirdly shaped scar was hiden by his overgrown hair. He was forever grateful that Amy gave him this idea.
"Holy cricket, you're Harry Potter! "
"Huh?"
How in Gab's dirty socks did this girl know the name the letter, Sam didn't know. Maybe she was some weird stalker or she was the one who had sent the letter. Anyways, he didn't like it one bit.
And without listening to what she was saying, something about his mama, he turned around and locked himself in his compartment. Damn good thing, those locks. Even if he had no doubts that those doors could be opened with a spell. Not that he knew which one. Amy and Gab had forbidden him to look at a textbook, saying that he had to make the best of this time with them, Gab being slightly more insistent. But there again, it was comprehensive. Amy was his sister while Gab was just... his friend. He was scared he would be forgotten.
Which he would never be.
"It's true then, what they say on the train. Harry Potter has come to hogwarts." Violence was something that his mama hated but that Amy loved. Right this moment, he felt more inclined to listen to his sister'scareful lessons. This stick in the ass blond prat had just told to every first year the name the letter used. A name apparently important as everyone seemed to know it. A name that was worth many childish gasps. "This is Crabbe and Goyle. And I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."
And honestly, Sam couldn't care less about what this Draco wanted of him and without a noise, he walked away, his move shocking many, including the blond prat and his goonies. Someone did not just ignore Drack Malfoy, even being Harry Potter. But Sam had no interest in principles such as those, hence the reason why he was now standing very close to a door.
Door who very nearly crushed him alive when it opened. Luckily, he had good reflexes and stepped out just in time to see the same old lady that had come to get them. Professor Mcgonagall was her name.
Diligently, he followed her, but not before waiting to be last in line. When he stepped inside the biggest eating room he had ever seen, his excitement to write everything to his family became bigger. From the floating candles to the cursed ceiling, everything was impressive and magical...
"Now when I call your name, you will come forth, I shall place the sorting hat on your head, and you will be sorted into your houses."
Even if he hadn't been allowed to read even the smalled information about the wizarding world, he had heard other children talking about it. So he knew that they were either sorted into Slytherin, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. The sorting was nothing very impressive.
The children were sorted, A, B, C's ect, Hermione Granger being sorted to Gryffindor, Draco Malfoy in Slytherin, Hannah Abbot in Hufflepuff and he actually cringed at the amount of noise. He was never really used to this amount of people either... For Sam, all of this ordeal was strange and uncomfortable.
"Harry Potter."
The entire hall grew silent. Obviously. Sam stepped up, staring heatedly at everyone looking at him as if he was an animal and before he sat on the stand, he turned to the crowd and said with his loudest voice, which came out quieter than he wanted because of the stress: "I'm Samael. Not Harry or whatever. I won't be answering to anything but that."
Because his mama and his papa had chosen that name and he wouldn't let this new world chose a new identity for him.
But he could see that, even if no one spoke up, no one was okay with that. That they would still call him Harry Potter. Turning around to sit properly on the stool, he met eyes with the teachers. An elderly ma, the headmaster he suppose, was looking at him with suspicious, another with greasy hair was staring intensely. The others were just as shocked as the students.
He didn't care.
When Professor Mcgonagall placed the hat on his head, he immediately felt his memories being reviewed. Every, single, memories. Memories of his mama and his papa cooking breakfast, of Amy helping him clean, of Gab playing with him. Even memories he had forgotten, of a green light and of a woman screaming at him.
"I was made a long time ago and never have I met a mind as complicated as yours..."
"I had a happy childhood." He squeaked mentally, before wondering why he was even defending himself.
"Did you now..." The hat looked a little more in his memories, watched when he had to clean a broken plate, when Amy covered a bruise, before finally deciding himself. " SLYTHERIN!"
Everyone gasped. And in everyone, even the teachers and slytherin table. Everyone was whispering and talking and staring at him. Sam didn't understand. He was quite happy he landed in Slytherin.
He liked green.
Friends wasn't something he needed. Not when he had Gab and Amy. Not when he had such wonderful parents taking care of him.
Sam never felt alone. Not one moment could he allow himself to daydream or peacefully clean the dishes because there was always someone talking to him. Touching him. Petting him? Some would say it was a curse, to always be followed by someone, to never have a moment for themselves. For him, it was a blessing. Ever since he was small, he did not cope well with silence. With loneliness.
And maybe that was why he felt so depressed, sitting alone in the train without Amy's constant bragging or Gab quiet suttering. It was the seventh time he was taking that train, the fourth to go to Hogwarts, and each time, he was alone. Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger refused to talk talk him, even if he was Harry Potter, because he was slytherin. Which was ridiculous. When he whined about it to his mama, his papa had wisely told him it wasn't worth making friends with someone who did not accept you for who you were. Sam listened and Sam accepted the truth. In Hogwarts, the kids were too immature to see him as Samael.
Quite a shame, honestly.
So Sam was doing the trip alone. All he could do to distract himself was think about those past three years. His experience so far with the magical world wasn't very impressing. When Amy wrote him to ask if he saw dragons and fairies everyday, he had to answer back painfully that all that was truly special was the castle and the spells. Everything else was painfully mundane. And dangerous. A troll in first year that he knew Dumdledore had introduced to gauge his braveness (he was a Slytherin, not a damn Gryffindor), a basilisk in second year (again woken up by Dumbledore for... he wasn't sure why honestly) and a mass murderer last year that ended up disappearing after trying to enter Gryffindor's common room (he believed Dumbledore had something to do with it).
A smile slowly curled his lips. During the summer, Amy had protested that Dumbledore was intentionally putting in danger her little brother. He couldn't say she was wrong. In his 3 by 10 feet wide cupboard, she would be braiding his hair while describing with vivid details everything she would do to Dumbledore once she met him. Hang him by the feet, petrify him, pull all his nose hair...
Gab had a different approach. He once asked Sam, when they were kneeling under the burning sun without protection while gardening lilies, if he wanted to become a true slytherin. For the rest of the afternoon, he had got to listen to the detailed plan of his friend about what was a true slytherin and what they did for revenge, before he was called back to the house because dinner had to be made.
Sam missed summer. Missed his family. Missed talking to them.
A short auburn haired girl opened the door of his compartment, looking terribly upset.
"So-sorry." She suttered and Sam held back a sight. Rare were the people people introduced themselves first in the wizarding world. "Can I si-sit here? Everywhere e-else is full..."
"What's your name?"
She was young, a first year he guessed, which meant it wasn't too late to beat good manners inside of her. That would be what his mama would have done, without a doubt.
"U-uh?"
Even if he hadn't told her to sit, she did.
"Your name. What's your name?"
"Oh!" Was it that rare to tell your name to a stranger? "Elean-eleanor Branstone..."
"Samel Sullivan."
Silence settled back down but this time, he wasn't bothering by it. The presence of the girl was enough. And if looked at her from the corner of the day, she somewhat reminded him of Amy. Maybe because of he sweet looking face. Or her innocent eyes. Not that Amy was innocent by any means, she just looked like it.
Other than looks, she cursed more than a farmer.
"So-sorry, I was wondering... Are-aren't you Harry Po-potter?"
Sigh
"It's the name this world gave me. It isn't the name my parents gave me."
"Yo-your family? You have a family?" He looked away from the window (anyways, he knew the landscape by heart now), to turn towards Eleanor. She truly reminded him of his Amy. The way she was chewing her bottom lip and that she played with her fingers...
It was somewhat uncanny.
"My parents. Ever heard of Andrew and Fae Sullivan?"
"N-no... I thought you didn't have a family..."
Him? Not having a family?
He barked a short laugh. "I have a sister to, Amy. She's five years older, kind of a bitch but really nice with strangers. When you have a problem, she'll always be there for you but if you try to have some quality time with her, you're in for a hell of a time. She'll cut you every five seconds, try to draw on your face with a pen and if its a secret, you're sure it will be out in the open in one hour maximum. But other than that, she's the best sister ever."
"You seem to really love her. Do you have a family picture?" She fumbled in her travel bag for a moment before pulling out an old crinkled photo."That's mine, with Laura, my twin, my grandparents and my parents..."
Sam looked at the picture handed out to him, looked at the happy faces, at the smiles, at the jolly atmosphere.
And why did his answer: "My parents don't like cameras..." sounded so much like a lie?
"Harry, my boy!"
By Gab's dirty socks, the Headmaster walked fast. Very fast. Even with a robe and old age. But Sam already knew that. Already knew that if Dumbledore wanted to see him, he would.
So he stopped and turned around. conscious of everyone in the corridor looking at them. Especially Granger, hidden behind her group of friends. Ever since he let her be attacked by a troll in first year, petrified by a basilisk in second, sent to save Weasley from a mass murderer alone and face Umbridge with lies without anyone daring to support her, she had been wary of him. But it wasn't his fault that he wanted to see how she would manage in all those different situations. Amy always said it was important to gauge someone's strength. And that had been what he had been doing!
After all, he wasn't a traitorous snake like Malfoy. No, he prefered seeing himself as a cunning one...
"I thought I already told you I wanted to be called Samael."
"Yes, yes Harry." Sam frowned. Dumbledore wasn't listening. As usual. "I heard you insulted professor Snape earlier this week. And that you were found missing during the weekends..."
Sam had to fight back a smile. It had been a marvelous moment when he answered Snape correctly to each answers and insulted him back in retaliation to all those years. A very good memory indeed.
"I'm just going to hogsmead, Headmaster. Nowhere far." But still outside the limits of Hogwarts. Forbidden, then, but Sam found out quick early that as Harry Potter, he could bend many rules.
From the frown on the wrinkled face, he could already tell this one wouldn't pass.
"And who are you visiting, my boy?" Dumbledore was keeping his grandfather sweet voice that fooled many. Everyone thought he cared for Sam but Sam knew. Knew that Dumbledore only cared about Harry Potter.
"For the hundredth time, Headmaster, mys sister!"
"Now, you shall change your tone with me, my boy."
He had to physically restrain himself from rolling his eyes.
When, as an eleven years old he was only mildly annoyed by the idea of going to the magical world, now, at sixteen, he was angry and bored. His time would be spent more wisely if he could stay at his house, with his family, with Gab. But instead, he was forced in this school, forced to become someone he wasn't. Someone that he still refused to become.
Everyone thought of him as a snake. As the Slytherin Prince. Some even, as Malfoy lover. Even if Malfoy was dating Parkinson. It was true he wore his colours with pride, that he won as many points as he could for his house, but by no means was he the next Dark Lord in the making. He didn't even have any interest in magic. As soon as he finished school, he would go back to living with his mama, his papa and Amy and inviting Gab regularly. As soon as he finished with Hogwarts, he would abandon magic. Apart from cleaning and healing, it would have no real use to him when he reached his majority.
"Sir, I told you last year. If you want to take me away from my family, my family will come to me."
"And of what family are you talking about, Potter, when yours was destroyed sixteen years ago?" The snarky voice sent shivers down his body.
Severus Snape.
The one professor that hated him more than anyone else. Which was quite some feat. Everyone hates him. (Apparently it was because he was no hero.)
"Severus!" The old man scolded and Sam found himself curious. Something was being hidden from him.
"I refuse to keep on pretending for the precious boy-that-lived." Snape's word were carefully pronounced, and loud. Everyone in the corridor, and more, were listening.
This day who had started like any other, was starting to become interesting.
"Severus, you shall not say another word."
"Subtlety doesn't seem to work on the boy.To confront him to the truth would seem to be the only way to wake up the spoilt brat."
For some reasons, Amy's face appeared in his mind. Her beautiful face, framed by black locks, begging him to come to hogsmead. That she was waiting for him. That he had to leave. That he didn't want to listen to whatever was going to be said.
He never lasted long against her soft hazel eyes ...
"Headmaster, I'm sorry, I have to leave. Maybe we could talk again later?"
The two adults frowned.
"And where are you awaited, my boy?"
"To hogsmead. My sister is waiting for-"
"You have no sister, boy. No mother. No father. You have nothing.
It was too late. Amy called out to him too late.
Sam looked up to Snape and he felt himself break. Something inside of him broke. And with his heart snapping in half, he felt the tears roll down his face. Because he knew, it was true.
He had no one.
"N-no, Amy is waiting for m-me." He suttered miserably and he felt his legs wobble beneath him and a great fatigue take him.
With his wand, Snape cancelled the glamour his mama had wandlessly casted on him for the new school year. And everyone gasped.
He had no one.
Even if Amy and Gab had generously shared her food, he was still skinny. Too skinny. And the tall size he had invented for himself shorten into a boy of barely fourteen. Sam was a malnourished, abused boy.
One that his family hadn't been able to protect. One that was hated upon and used as a punching bag and a maid. One that never went outside before his eleven years old expect to lawn the grass or garden. One that lived under the stairs in a cupboard and that ate food no one wanted to have.
He had no one.
In his loneliness, in his pain, in his fear, his brain called out to his imagination and at three, when he was miserably crying himself to sleep, a soft hand started stroking his hair and another tucking him under his cover and another was holding him in they arms and another was watching him with a smile. No one ever smiled when looking at him. That night, Harry Potter became Samael Sullivan. His mother was mama Fae, the most beautiful he had ever met but was only a re-creation of someone he had vaguely seen on the TV. She had black hair, just like his, tied in a tight braid down her back, golden loops around her ears and a soft golden brown skin. His father, papa Andrew, was very different. He was made out of the description of the author of a cooking book. Old fashioned mustache and goatee but so nice and careful with him. Each time he would take his son in his arms, he would treat him like glass. Amy was very different from her parents. She was the girh Sam had seen playing in the playground with Dudley. He never saw her again. But Amy was Amy and she was the sweetest girl he had ever met. She was funny and pretty and just perfect. But what he had loved most about her was that she was always there when he cleaning the house, telling him funny stories about flying brooms or about Moony and Padfoot and Prongs. For him, it was funny stories about people with funny names. Gab was special. He was made from Sam's very own head. And he was the boy he wished he was. Gab had lighter dark hair, less intense green eyes, no scar, neater hair, and a wider smile.
They were a family. Even Gab. They never left him alone, not one moment, and the Dursely's always accused magic for the reason why their nephew talked and laughed on his own. They never tought to be worried. Not one moment.
Because he was Harry Potter, the freak, and not Samael. Samael never existed.
He had no one.