Disclaimer: I am not J.K Rowling, I do not own Harry Potter or any characters from the books featured in this Fanfiction story.

Chapter One - Not the Boy We Rescued

A young man with brilliant emerald green eyes, shadowed by a mop of scruffy black hair sat at the table, his arms folded defiantly across his chest, his scowl obvious even though his head was bowed down. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived.

Though adults surrounded him, his manner, whilst some may have thought it childish, was stubborn enough to make him an impenetrable person to those about him, trying to interrogate him.

'Look, if he ain't gonna bother talkin' to us, what's the point in this?' a man sitting opposite Harry asked. This man, who Harry had heard be called Sirius Black, had hair almost as dark as Harry's, except that Black's was a little longer.

'Harry,' Dumbledore tried again, 'you must accept what we tell you.' Dumbledore. A name not even Harry had been able to hide himself from. Though he'd spent the best part of ten years hiding from the major wizarding world, Harry knew about this wise old wizard.

Dumbledore was old, for sure, but by no means senile. A long, silvery white beard trailed down the aged man's front, and almost delicate spectacles framed sharp, but not unwelcoming, blue eyes.

'I'm not accepting your bullshit.' Harry snapped. He was furious with himself for having been caught by two Aurors on one of his regular trips into Diagon Alley. He always disguised himself, always disguised himself, to appear like a normal teenage wizard. He had grown his hair slightly long, in an emo-esque style, so as to hide his lightning-bolt shaped scar from public view. He even travelled under the pseudonym of "Mr H. Patterson" to avoid his famous name being inevitably recognised.

'Now, Harry,' another man said, to the side, clearly not impressed by the language. This man was Remus Lupin, Harry had discovered. Lupin was around the same age as Sirius, if not exactly, though his appearance was greatly different. He had short, rather limp, hazel-coloured hair; dull eyes and an expression that made him appear constantly dogged by some unknown (to Harry, at least) oppression.

'Don't you "now" me.' Harry shot at the man, his emerald eyes fiery with arrogance and rage that bared itself all too often. 'You've got no right, bringing me here. No right.'

'I believe you will find, Harry, that we have every right to protect our best interests.' Dumbledore said, in his calm voice. His stare, uncomfortably piercing when concentrated on someone, bore into the young teenager before him.

'Yeah? Well it's certainly not in my best interests to stay here.' Harry told the old man, levelly. As threatened as he felt, in this closed-in, inescapable environment, Harry had no intention of letting them know the fear that clutched his heart. He was trying his very best to stamp out the worry, the dread, with an overwhelming sense of irritable superciliousness.

'You don't know you're best int'rests.' Black retorted.

'Who asked you?' Harry countered, haughtily.

'Never you bleedin' mind, you-'

'Sirius.' Lupin said, sharply. The man fell silent, but his gaze, as stubborn as Harry's, remained focused on the source of his swelling anger.

'Harry, despite your ten-year absence, you are still needed with us.' Dumbledore explained, his eyes still fixated on the boy.

'Well, I reckon you've done okay for the last decade.' Harry surmised, with a disinterested and casual tone. 'Whatever's up, I'm sure you can handle it without me.'

'Your confidence astounds me.' Black muttered, sarcastically. Lupin gave the man a warning look, but remained quiet. Harry eyed the two; there was a strong connection, a bond - perhaps of a long-term friendship - between them. Black struck Harry as the sort of person that did not back down from an argument quickly, but Lupin's reign of control had to be surprisingly resilient, if he could hold back Black's temper.

'Harry, we are dealing with matters of extreme importance.' Dumbledore told the boy. 'You play a vital role in the issues.'

'Lemme guess, Voldemort?' Harry suggested, rolling his eyes at them all. 'Everything's about frikkin' Voldemort.'

'Be that as it may,' Dumbledore intoned, 'he is stirring up his old army, allying himself with dangerous forces.'

'Good for him.' Harry said, with mocking sincerity.

'You won't be saying that when he's marching up to you, wand out and cursing you back to Merlin's time!' Black snarled. Lupin's gaze came about once again. 'What, Remus? The kid needs some sense whacked into him-'

'Sirius, if you please.' Dumbledore said. The man folded his arms and scowled, mirroring Harry in extraordinary likeness, onethat Lupin noticed and smiled at, amused. 'Harry,' Dumbledore continued, 'I would very much like to discuss Voldemort with you, if, however, you find the subject of such a Dark Wizard bothersome, we can turn to other concerns.'

'Such as?' Harry asked, dismissively.

'Such as your whereabouts for the last ten years.' The old man said. 'We have been looking for you for the entire time that you have been missing. As you most probably already know.'

'Yeah, I know you've had those Ministry dogs searching for me. But they didn't do too good a job of finding me, did they?' Harry challenged.

'They got you in the end.' Black reminded him.

'Yeah, and it only took ' em ten years.' Harry snapped. 'Yeah, they're brilliant.'

Black would perhaps have replied, but Dumbledore headed the conversation, once more.

'Still, Harry, we would all like to know where you have been.' Dumbledore asked, his face politely inquiring.

'Why, I've been spending my time with those wonderful Dursley people.' Harry said, in a sarcastically cheerful tone that immediately signalled that he was, quite obviously, lying. 'Fine set of Muggles, they are. You know, I really enjoy their company,' then his tone changed, to a dark, resentful one, 'I just can't get enough of them locking me under the stairs and starving me to death. Not to mention those beatings, hell, I freakin' lived for that shit.'

Silence fell. Harry sat, moodily slouched on the padded chair, his gaze directed at the floor.

Eventually, someone decided that something had to be done, that the situation had to be resolved in some way. That someone was, naturally, Professor Albus Dumbledore.

'Harry, I can tell that this has been a distressing day for you. Obviously, you are not ready to be questioned. I shall return tomorrow, and we shall continue our discussion.' The man stood up, not a hint of feebleness shown in the tall man as he took his leave. Black, brow furrowed in deep thought, rose with him. 'Mr Lupin will stay with you, Harry, and show you to your room when you are ready.'

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Albus shut the door once Sirius had walked through. He removed his spectacles and held them up to the light, looking for a source of dust that had been bothering him. Sirius took the opportinity to speak.

'Dumbledore,' the younger man said, heavily, running a hand through his mane of dark hair, 'that…that kid…hell, not even a kid. That guy in there…that's not the boy we rescued.'

End of Chapter One

Yes, Harry is not exactly the Harry from the books, but then, in my story, he has not been raised the same way, which you will discover more about in the upcoming chapters!

Reviews welcome!