Chapter 3: Strange Circumstances

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters in it. Harry Potter belongs to JKR. Characters that are not in canon but are in here are mine, though.

Tom the bartender had owned the Leaky Cauldron for about forty years now and had seen quite a few strange people and things. He remembered with fondness when James Potter and his friends came to celebrate James' engagement to the beautiful Lily Evans. He remembered when business died down due to Voldemort's first rise and the many parties when young Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord. He remembered the Boy Who Lived's first visit to Diagon Alley – the boy had looked so bewildered! He had seen hags, werewolves, and criminals. He had seen a talking goat, even. This, however, had to be the strangest thing, he decided, staring at a sight he never thought he would see.

Harry Potter, Boy Who Lived, Savior of the Wizarding World, the last of a great, honorable, and wealthy line, was curled up in a shadowy corner of the Leaky Cauldron, fast asleep.

Tom stared for a few seconds more, then shook himself and knelt down to shake the boy awake. It worked. Harry threw his head up with a start, blinking rapidly. His eyes darted around, and then finally rested on Tom, his face clearly showing his confusion.

"What? Tom? What am I doing here?" He asked Tom, who could only shake his head.

"I was hoping you could tell me that, Mr. Potter. Shouldn't you be with your relatives? Even if you should be here, you most definitely should not be here." Tom indicated the corner. "I would be happy to give you a room anytime. Why did you settle down here?" Harry shrugged.

"I don't remember coming here. I thought I was with my rel – oh!" His eyes widened as he cut himself off. He stood up and once again scanned the room until he found the fireplace. "Tom, do you have some floo powder? I need to speak to Dumbledore! It's urgent!" He pleaded. Tom was intrigued, but nonetheless, he gestured for Harry to follow him to the fireplace, grabbing floo powder on the way.

"What's wrong, lad?" The teen could only shake his head.

"I'm not sure. It's ... hard to remember, but ... something's wrong ... with the Dursleys." Tom lifted an eyebrow, more curious than ever, but he squashed the urge to ask and let Harry take the floo powder with a "Thanks for waking me up, and for the floo powder". Seconds later, Harry Potter was gone.

Dumbledore paced in his office, frowning. He had only just returned from Grimmauld's Place, having heard the bad news and given more: all of his attempts to ascertain Harry's location, including the school addressing quill, had utterly failed. It had been 11 days now since 4 Privet Drive had been attacked, and he was without hope. Even though Harry's body (he shuddered at the phrase) hadn't been found, the large amount of blood in his room and outside, forming a trail that simply stopped in the nearby park, which had tested positive as Harry's, told Dumbledore a grim tale. Harry and his relatives had been attacked. The Dursleys had been killed. Harry must have tried to escape, though wounded. (The source of the wounds was either his relatives or the Death Eaters, though it really didn't matter: Harry was still hurt.) He was chased and captured, and then taken to Voldemort. There was no way he could have survived. Dumbledore's old heart broke again, thinking about it. The poor boy wouldn't have had a single chance.

Despite the facts, Sirius refused to accept them. Every time anyone saw him, he was repeating "He's got to be alive. He has to be alive." under his breath and glaring at anyone who suggested otherwise. Molly was weeping almost nonstop. Her twins and daughter stayed in the twins' room, silently thinking of their friend and hero. Remus had reverted to the same condition he was in after the Potters' deaths and Sirius' imprisonment. Tonks was devastated, thinking that the whole thing was her fault. And Harry's best friends... Dumbledore shook his head, smiling ever so slightly.

Ron and Hermione had taken the news hard, understandably. Yet within 24 hours, both were certain that Harry was alive somewhere, perhaps even more so than Sirius was. They were constantly talking in low tones together, looking through books for who knew what, and had been caught twice trying to sneak out to look for their best friend. They protested loudly at having been stopped, proclaiming that if the Order would just let them do what they needed (including spellcasting without repercussions from the government), they would have Harry home before dinner the next day. Sirius was the only one who believed them, and had instantly sided with them, deciding to go with them and assuring Molly that he would look after them on the search. Needless to say, the idea was shot down. Although their constant faith in Harry's ability to survive was encouraging, Dumbledore wasn't so sure. If Voldemort hadn't killed Harry yet, he was torturing him in Voldemort's stronghold, and no one taken there during the first rise had ever left except as a corpse or a new Death Eater.

Sighing, Dumbledore collapsed in his chair and buried his head in his hands. Severus was trying to see what had become of the boy, but he was having no luck. The situation was hopeless.

At the faint popping sound signaling a floo traveler, Dumbledore lifted his head. Perhaps it was someone from the Order, giving him some useful news for a change.

It wasn't; it was Harry!

Dumbledore rushed over to help the teen pull himself off the floor. He actually wasn't in that bad of a condition, he noted absently. For one thing, his muggle clothes actually fit him. For a boy who almost the entire Order thought was dead or dying at the Dark Lord's hand, he appeared to be quite healthy. The boy then looked up at his headmaster and seemed to sag in relief.

"Headmaster! They came! The Dursleys – I left them, but I think –" He would no doubt have continued, but Dumbledore managed to pull himself together and held up a hand to stop Harry.

"They're dead," Dumbledore finished. "I know, lad, I know. We noticed. Don't worry about it. Now, Harry, what's important is you. I confess we had assumed that the Death Eaters had taken you to Voldemort and he had either killed you or was in the process. I can't tell you how very relieved I am to see you alive and well. But, it's been almost 2 weeks now, my lad. Where – what is it?" Harry had started and was now gaping up at him. He opened and shut his mouth a few times, but finally found his voice.

"2 weeks! Sir, that can't be! The Death Eaters just attacked last night! There's no way it's been 2 weeks!" Now it was Dumbledore's turn to be shocked, though he hid it much better.

"It hasn't been a full two weeks, but today is August 11, Harry. Don't you remember the past week and a half?" He shook his head, still in shock.

"I don't remember very much about the attack even. They came and started firing curses. I managed to get out through my window and start running. After that, I think I collapsed." He frowned. "Next thing I know, Tom is waking me up and I'm in a corner of the Leaky Cauldron. He didn't know how or when I got there, either." He stopped and thought a bit. Finally, he shook his head and looked at Dumbledore. "I'm sorry, sir, but I can't remember anything else." Dumbledore sighed. Then he looked at Harry and smiled.

"Ah, well, we can learn what happened later, Harry. For now, let's go and tell your friends that you're alive and here. Your godfather and the other two thirds of the 'Golden Trio' will be particularly pleased. Those three have been quite determined to go search for you. I believe Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger were planning on storming Voldemort's fortress by themselves if necessary to fetch you, in fact." Harry grinned.

"The Golden Trio, sir?"

"Yes. Hadn't you realized? That is your peers' nickname for you three. It has been for some time now. But come." Dumbledore picked up his pot of floo powder, and the two were soon on their way to "12 Grimmauld Place!"

The first thing Harry thought of when he saw the house was that it made a pretty poor headquarters. The place was filthy – Aunt Petunia would have a heart attack if she saw this place – and seemed to scream its ancient family's affiliation with all things dark. He was prevented by making further observations by a scream.

"Harry! Oh Harry! It is you!" Hermione threw herself at him and Ron was only a heartbeat slower to get up and make his way to his best friend. Ron was grinning.

"I knew you'd be fine, mate. I knew it. You really can't be killed, can you? How are you? Hermione, let him go; he won't be able to breathe soon, let alone explain himself."

Hermione released him, to Harry's great relief. He grinned at them, and told them, "I don't know. I only just found out that it was August, not July, a few minutes ago. I can't remember a thing past collapsing in the park." Just then, Sirius and Remus came in, followed by Fred, George, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley. All of them were indeed ecstatic to see him. Sirius and Mrs. Weasley kept asking if he was alright. Harry was happier than he'd ever been. They had been worried about him. When Dumbledore told him that everyone was worried, he'd been expecting mild concern. But this – it was mind-boggling. Harry was beginning to feel overwhelmed. To think that only a few days ago, he'd been wondering if life was worth it; he had been contemplating and eagerly awaiting the day when his uncle would go too far and stop the pain for good.

"Harry? Are you alright? What's wrong, kiddo?" Harry glanced up at Sirius' concerned face and forced a smile.

"It's nothing. I just still can't figure out why I can't remember anything." He firmly pushed his thoughts away. He could dwell on his uncle later. Sirius frowned, but accepted it.

"That is strange." He turned to Dumbledore. "Could someone have Obliviated him or something? It's just weird to forget 11 days out of the blue." Dumbledore furrowed his eyebrows.

"It is possible. We can easily get a Healer to see if he has been, and if so, correct it. That can wait, though. Molly, Sirius, if you could get Harry settled in a room, it would be wonderful. I must go check on some things. If you'll excuse me, I must be off." With a nod to everyone, Dumbledore disapparated. Mrs. Weasley nodded, and turned to Sirius.

"He is right. Sirius, which room would be best for Harry?" Sirius thought for a moment.

"I know. Here, I'll show you. I think you'll like it, Harry, but if not, we can get you another. This place is big. Come on. You guys don't need to come, though." With that, Sirius led Harry upstairs to a room. "It's around lunchtime, so I think we can eat and then get you some clothes, school supplies, and stuff. Because it was all destroyed, unless you saved any?" Harry shook his head.

"No. Come to think of it, I don't even know where I got these clothes." He gestured at what he was wearing. "They're definitely not mine. You're right, though. I don't even have my wand, but I thought I took it with me." Harry shook his head again. "It's weird." Sirius frowned thoughtfully.

"That is strange. Though you know, the clothes look good on you. Your other muggle ones have never suited you. Why did you wear them, anyway?" Harry shrugged.

"Aunt Petunia never got me new clothes. I always just wore Dudley's old things." He snorted softly. "She wouldn't even buy the uniform for Stonewall, the place I was supposed to go to before I got my Hogwarts letter. I saw her dying some of Dudley's old clothes gray for it." Sirius growled.

"Those good for nothing...oh well. I should have known. Yeah, we'll definitely have to get you new everything then. Shame about your wand though. If it could produce Priori Incantatem with Voldemort's, that would've been right useful. Doesn't matter, though. We can just get you new stuff to – what the!" He stopped just as he opened the door to a room. Harry stepped around him.

"What's wrong? Is – hey, that's my trunk!" Indeed it was. Sitting innocently in the middle of the bedroom was Harry's school trunk, open. Packed neatly inside were his school books, broom, broom care kit, his other school supplies, with his eleven inch long, holly and phoenix feather wand right on top.

A/N - Well, I finally got this up. I actually have had this written for some time now, but I wanted my brother to read over it before I uploaded it, and it was forever before he could get at a computer and read it, so yeah, it took a bit longer than expected. On the other hand, this way I get to upload it for my little sister's birthday. She turned 12 yesterday!

Also, I know that this wasn't what anyone was expecting, and I apologize. It honestly wasn't what I had been expecting, either. But then, one day, I was just thinking about Starspeaker and how to word Brad and Harry's meeting (that's usually the hardest thing for me, the writing the ideas out in a logical fashion), and this idea came out. I really like it.

As for the next chapter, well, I'm not sure when it will come. Winter vacation is coming up, so I should be able to write freely then, but I don't know. I do have it planned out, though, and I can tell you that it will have Harry will be at Hogwarts, Umbridge, and hopefully more on the Talented. Also, in chapter 6, I plan to have Christmas (it'd be great if I could get it to line up with Christmas 2005, but I doubt it) and Asitel's presents to Harry.

Well, it's time I stopped rambling with a purpose and uploaded this thing. Good night!

-Pagemistress89