Harry Potter had not been an ordinary boy, in fact he has never been close to normal since the day he was born. With this taken into mind, Harry dreaded what lies beyond his eyelids. Scared of any more abnormalities, Harry persistently closed his eyes and began to adventure with his surroundings.
The air was damp, and he was soaked head to toe. Maybe he had drowned?
Harry fused his eyebrows. That couldn't be right, he could breathe. But he also felt water on his back side; wet, slimy, smelly….the water on his back was really stinky. It reminded him of those unpleasant memories of potion class with Snape's greasy head hovering over him. Maybe Snape tried to drown him with potion, but could not succeed because Dumbledore saved him.
Then it hit Harry. Dumbledore was dead. Snape killed him.
A heavy thump weighed his heart as he remembered. A cold, shivering wind overtook his body that could be identified as hatred. Harry was going to kill Snape, and Malfoy. And Voldemort.
But really first things first. He needed to open his eyes first. But he didn't want to. Harry allowed his laziness to take over and continued with his surroundings.
The temperature of wherever he was felt warm, and he felt himself began to sweat slightly. He didn't have his glasses, meaning that everything will look blurry anyways, so why even spend the energy opening his eyes? Agreeing with his logic, Harry continued with his senses.
There was a slight humming noise in the background and it felt somewhat soothing. His mouth felt bitter, as if he had just swallowed the fluid that covered his backside. Really whoever did this to must felt sadistic to make him nostalgic of Snape. Maybe Snape was the one who did it!
Instantly Harry popped up his eyes. He perused the ceiling. It was dull grey, but it looked as if it had been shiny white before. Tentatively, Harry used his elbows to prop himself up and looked around.
Nothing in the world would have prepared him for this. It looked like a muggle facility, filled with machines of all kind. The machines, like the ceiling, looked dull and would have probably looked impressive in their younger years. The room he was in was trashed. Papers were all over the floor, and liquids covered the premise. And to make matters worse, he was naked, and in a tube.
Why the hell was he in a tube? This tube reminded him of those sci-fi video games Dudley would waste his time on. It looked like a muggle medicine pill filled with potion-like liquid. And he was naked.
The tube was smashed and the fluid that reminded Harry of Snape's potion was spilling out from the tube leisurely. One thing is for sure, Snape didn't do this. A headache was beginning to hatch inside of Harry's head. Feeling exasperated, Harry looked for some clothes, because if he really had to fight someone, he didn't want to do it starker.
The only clothes he could find were lab coats that were bridled with black mold. Feeling more vexed, Harry cleaned them in the sink (he made a gasp of surprise when found out the sink worked). Afterwards, Harry walked out of the room, which comprised of broken down machines and Snape potion and frankly just gave Harry the creeps.
After Harry opened the door, he was faced with a long hall way that again, like everything else, looked run down and old. There were several doors that were attached to the walls of the hallway. Had Harry been in his regular mood, he would have liked to check out the extra rooms. But, he just woke up naked in a tube surrounded by muggle machines, and that just drove him out of his regular mindset. Right now, all he wanted to do was to get the hell out of this place.
Harry imagined an eerie, portentous music playing in the background. Walking bare-foot, Harry reached the heavy doors at the end of the hall way. The doors led to a huge room. But it wasn't the vastness of the room that had caught his attention, but rather where the room had led to. It led to outside. The glass doors, though greased with dust, reflected the outside world. It was raining.
Great, Harry thought. More liquid.
But that didn't stop Harry, because something in Harry felt as though he was trap, and he needed to be outside. His slow, hesitant walk broke out into a full run as he reached for the glass doors.
Bam!
Something shot at Harry, missing him by a foot. Abandoning his desire for release, Harry ran and hid behind a pillar. He turned to look for the source and that was when he realized that he was shot by a muggle gun.
Harry located the source to be an obese, short man with a shot gun aimed at Harry on the balcony of the second floor.
"Who are you?" the man yelled belligerently.
"I'm Harry Potter," Harry replied, but realized that may not be the best answer considering that Voldemort was after his head, in addition to that, he had no way to protect himself.
The man snorted loudly.
"Harry Potter? If you're really Harry Potter, I'm Dumbledore's reincarnate."
"I really am Harry Potter!" Harry shouted. This man was really insulting. Harry didn't care that he may have just threw away his life at telling this man his identity. Nobody, who looked like the short version of Uncle Vernon with a muggle gun…wait Dumbledore? This man had to be a wizard! But what was he doing with a muggle gun?
While Harry was contemplating the identity of his shooter, another shot was fired at him.
"Aah!" Harry yapped. The bullet hit the pillar, making a nice round hole near Harry's face.
"I really am Harry Potter!"
"Really, if you are then, start acting like the Gryffindor that you're suppose to be."
"You're shooting at me! I may be brave, but I'm not stupid."
The man grumbled, which Harry had an inkling that it was not very pleasant, before shouting "I won't shoot you if you come out and let me look at you."
"Give me a Wizard's Oath."
The man snorted loudly again.
"I can't give you a Wizard's Oath. First, I don't have a wand with me. Second, we have no witness. Why don't I swear on Dumbledore's grave that I will not shoot you if you come out."
"How do I know that even matters to you?"
"Dumbledore was the greatest man alive."
Carefully examining his face, Harry could not detect a lie. So, cautiously, Harry stepped out of the pillar and looked up onto the man. The man was carefully examining Harry before he jumped down from the second floor to Harry's level. The man bounced a bit, greatly resembling a round ball that had been dropped. Harry snickered a little.
"What's so funny?" the man growled.
"Nothing," Harry replied, eyeing the suspicious man.
Harry was wrong, the man did not resemble Uncle Vernon, except for their obese bodies, but rather this person reminded him strongly of Horace Slughorn.
"Are you related to Professor Slughorn?" Harry asked.
"Hah!" The man held up his gun again and pointed it at Harry. "I knew you were after me!"
"No, wait! I'm not after you. I just woke up randomly in a tube. I don't even know who you are!"
The man shrewdly examined Harry before putting down his gun.
"How do I know you're really Harry Potter?"
"I don't know" Harry replied, rather stupefied at the question. How would one know if he was Harry Potter? He didn't possess any special techniques or have any unique skill (but really this question had taken Harry by surprise. Everyone knew he was Harry Potter, and he had just woken up fuzzy headed with a growing headache; therefore, when Harry reflected back onto this memory, he decided that it was not his fault that he sounded stupid).
"What was Albus Dumbledore's favorite candy?"
"Lemon drop" Harry replied, proud of himself for the answer.
"What does he want for Christmas presents?"
"Sock."
"Where's your scar and glasses?"
Harry's hands automatically went to his forehead where his scars would be and felt nothing. Where was his scars? And why could he see so well without his glasses? What happened to him? His hands frantically touched his face to identify any other changes.
It seemed that without the scars and glasses, everything was still the same. Sighing in relief, Harry looked at the man again.
The man looked amused and instantly put away his gun.
"Well, I guess my fortune is slowly changing for the better. Come with me," the man commanded while turning his body. The man walked toward the hallway that Harry had originally came from.
Looking at the rain regretfully, Harry obediently followed. The hallway didn't feel so bad with another person accompanying him.
"So, uh, sir, you never told me your name," Harry said while looking around his surroundings more carefully.
"I'm Hubert Slughorn, brother of Horace Slughorn, but I'm a lot smarter, so don't compare me to him."
Something in the man's attitude told Harry that the consequences of comparing him to Horace Slughorn were not going to be pleasant. Hubert Slughorn lead Harry to a small room that oddly reminded of the Dursley's cupboard that he used to sleep in. But even with his knowledge of the muggle world did not prepare him for what Slughorn was about to do.
Apparently this small room led to a different room. On the wall opposite of the door in which Harry had entered was a set of doors that could open only with the right person. Slughorn took out a white card and made an up and down motion in front of a black plastic box that popped out. Then he pressed his sausage like fingers to another rectangle that on the opposite side of the black box. Seemingly satisfied with his results, Slughorn continued on and pressed his face in front of a small camera that was just above the black plastic box. Finally the metal doors gently opened with a nice gliding sound. The doors revealed a much smaller room which Harry thought resembled an elevator.
"Come, Potter," Slughorn commanded with his boasting voice.
Harry aimless followed Slughorn, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the complexity of this place.
It seemed like Harry's speculation was correct, the small room was an elevator. However, unlike a normal elevator, this one did not have buttons that one can press, but descended abruptly after the doors closed.
"Where are we?" Harry finally spoke, breaking the silence between the pair.
"We are at a muggle government facility," Slughorn replied.
"Why am I here? In fact, why are you here? You're a wizard."
"What was the last thing you remember?"
Harry tried to concentrate on his memories, but drew a blank. He remembered going home to the Dursleys with Ron and Hermione, but afterwards, everything became fuzzy.
"I was going home to the Dursleys after school had just ended."
Slughorn looked at him with a weird expression that Harry could not identify.
"Well afterwards, you went and destroyed all of the Horcruxes. But you failed on your last one," Slughorn replied with a tone that mirrored his expression.
"I-I don't remember anything."
"Most likely memory loss. Ah, here we are."
The elevator doors opened and revealed another hallway, but it, unlike the previous ones Harry encountered, was sparkling clean with fluorescent lights that reminded Harry of an insane asylum in scary movies.
Slughorn walked conceitedly through the hallway, as if bragging to Harry about his accomplishments. Slughorn turned sharply and repeated the procedure that he had performed with his card, finger, and eye. This door opened up to a simple bedroom, but still quite nicely decorated. Instead of the medieval theme that embellished Hogwarts, Slughorn's room was modern and quite muggle like.
Slughorn placed his shotgun at a mahogany desk and opened the drawers to his wand. Slughorn waved his wand and muttered an incantation. A chair appeared immediately behind Harry. Taking this as a request, Harry sat down on the chair. Slughorn, as well, sat down at a nearby chair.
"So, Potter, I think I owe you an explanation," Slughorn started.
Harry licked his chapped lips and gave Slughorn his undivided attention.
"There's really not much to tell about your tale concerning your search for Horcruxes. You, with your smart muggle-born witch, along with that Weasley, found all the Horcruxes and destroyed them. However, you did not foresee that Voldemort would make another Horcrux: his body."
At this Slughorn muttered an incantation and two cups of butterbeer appeared on the table. Harry graciously accepted and gulped it down.
Finished with half of the butterbeer, Harry stopped and looked at Slughorn again.
"So how does that explain why I'm here?"
Slughorn looked peeved but did not answer Harry.
"Since Voldemort did not have much of his soul left, he could only make one. Realizing that all his Horcruxes were destroyed, Voldemort sent others to kill you because he was too cowardly to face you himself. Long story short, you almost died."
Slughorn took a long gulp from his own cup of butterbeer.
Impatiently, Harry asked "And?"
"Don't push me kid, I'm getting there. Damn Gryffindors," Slughorn cursed. "Anyways, the Order of the Phoenix collected your body in hope of a proper funeral. However since you were alive, many volunteered to resurrect you."
"So then they left me at a muggle facility?" Harry claimed.
"Of course not. But you have to understand, by this time, the Order was pretty much decimated, and Voldemort's rule began. The muggle government realized what was happening and tried to defend themselves. They somehow figured out that the Order was the only opposing force, consider much of the Ministry members were already bribed, dead, or under Imperio."
A sudden fear grasped Harry's heart and squeezed.
"Wha-"
"The muggles took you," Slughorn said simply, as if that was the easiest thing the comprehend.
"I don't understand."
Slughorn snorted loudly again.
"Didn't think so. You don't look too bright to me anyways."
Harry wanted to shout at the man for being so completely rude, but he knew that that would be unwise considering his position.
"The muggles took a lot of us actually, not just you. A lot of the remaining Order members as well as people who were hiding away from Voldemort at the time. The muggles took them here to do 'research' on wizards."
"What did they do? And what happened to my scar?"
"I quit the wizarding world a long time ago. The Order members asked me to watch this muggle facility. I don't usually do these things, but I own Dumbledore a favor. So I integrated into their system and posed as a scientist. Eventually the Order dispersed and forgot about me. As to what happened to you, the muggles apparently had information that your scar and your glasses were unique to you. They knew that if someone from the wizarding world knew about you, Voldemort would come here. So they preformed surgery on your forehead and eyes so that you are harder to identify."
"So the muggles know about magic?" Harry asked with astonishment. If the muggles knew about magic, then Harry would not like the imagine the world outside those glass doors.
"Not anymore they don't. Voldemort killed all the muggles that knew about magic and created a fascist regime in muggle Britain, similar to the British Wizarding community."
Harry gasped again. Voldemort ruled the muggles? That was just too bizarre for him to take in. He thought that Voldemort was trying to kill all the muggles? Why keep them oblivious to magic? Why not show off the magical blood that Voldemort was so proud of?
"I know what you're thinking, and yes I would have thought Voldemort would do the same thing. However, within a fascist regime, Voldemort could get away with virtually anything. Voldemort himself is not the actual leader. Anthony Wilkes, a known Deatheater, was instructed by Voldemort to pose as the muggle leader. Death Eaters take those who protest against Wilkes' rule and torture them for fun. Nobody has ever left the Death Eaters alive."
"What about the others? Why was I the only one left?"
"Experiments. Many died from the continuous exploitation of their body. If I learned one thing about muggles, it's that they're very creative. They had the brightest idea. If we had more minds like those, I think the wizarding world would be a very different place. They manipulated the wizarding heritage so intricately, that I was quite blown away. Many did not make it," Slughorn paused a little before going on. " Then the wizards found out about this place. Many people came here to collect love ones. Death Eaters used this to claim cruelty within muggles, I can't say I disagree. Muggles had no sense of remorse when experimenting with them, as if the muggles think we're a different breed. The muggles that work here were taken and tortured. No one recognized you since the muggles did not include your name in your information, just a serial number. No one took you," finished by sipping on his cup.
Harry stared at Slughorn as if he had just announced that Severus Snape had proposed marriage to the corpse of Harry's dead mother.
"Had you left through those glass doors, you would not have survived. Here!"
Slughorn took another wand from his drawers and threw it at Harry.
"It's my wand!" Harry exclaimed.
"Nowadays, a wand can get you killed, so don't go waving it to show off," Slughorn said.
"Why? I thought wizards ruled."
"They do, but no one is authorized to obtain a wand unless the you have Ministry permission. And to have a wand appear in front of muggles will get you in more trouble than if you were an illegal Animagus."
"What about muggle-borns?"
"Viritually slaves. Take the dirtiest jobs. Some of them hide out in the muggle world, biding their time. But most are in the wizarding world, acting like 2nd class citizens, just like Voldemort wanted them to be. It's a dirty world out there."
"What about you sir? Why haven't you left this building?"
"It's safer here, nobody to bother me. Beside, I'm being hunted. People know that I worked for the Order. Biggest mistake of my life," Slughorn added.
Harry frowned, this guy sure was acting cowardly like Professor Slughorn, no wonder they were related.
"Stand up! Show me what you can do."
Harry stood up and look at Slughorn. Harry wasn't sure what Slughorn had meant so just waited for further instructions.
"I'm gonna throw a knife at you," Slughorn said with an air of indifference.
"What? Are you cra-"
Slughorn didn't listen to Harry. Instead, Slughorn picked up a knife from his pocket (he had pockets?) and threw it at Harry without hesitation. Panic filled Harry's body, but before he knew it, he smoothly moved his head and dodged the knife.
"Wow, I didn't know I could do that!" Harry exclaimed. Wasn't being unconscious suppose to atrophy your body, not enhance it? Well Harry decided that he was not going to complain about something good happening to him, especially after all the information he had just received from Slughorn.
"I guess, muggles are good for something. They tempered with your muscle system. Enhanced you, you could say. I guess Voldemort isn't the only person who wish to achieve immortality and superhuman abilities. What comes around goes around, it served them right," Slughorn snorted again.
"That doesn't mean they have to be tortured!" Harry exclaimed. So muggles were interested in some experiments, big deal! That didn't mean that muggles needed to be tortured. They didn't deserve it.
"That's because you haven't seen some of the stuff they have done. Gifted wizards and witches were 'genetically' altered," Slughorn used his two index fingers to quote genetically. "Some of them didn't even resemble human beings anymore. If any of them had woken up, I would not be able to imagine the pain they had to go through."
"Well, then why didn't you do anything?"
"Me? My job was to watch over you. I made sure that the experiments that were conducted on you had high levels of success and would not alter you greatly. I told the that 'we have to be careful, that's kid there is important. He may be the key to free us from that monster.' This reasoning worked most of the time, but sometimes they went on without me to conduct research. They were all too curious for their own good. If you had not been a powerful wizard, I don't know what could have happened to you."
Harry felt grateful, even though moments ago he had been enraged with Slughorn for the blatant prejudice and hatred toward muggles.
"What can I do?" Harry asked, more politely.
"Agility and great eye-sight, I believe."
Harry agreed with Slughorn. Harry could see minute details of the room that he would not have noticed previously. If the situation had been lighter, Harry would have laughed at the irony. Poor eye-sight had been a unique trait in the Potter line for generations, and here he was, having better eye-sight than normal people.
"You also heal more quickly than most people. You have stronger endurance and hear things more easily than others. They are all beneficial, so you better thank me."
"Thank you," Harry muttered.
"Well I wouldn't want you to waste all my hard work. Wake up tomorrow, and I'll tell you how to vanquish Voldemort once and for all," Slughorn said.
Slughorn waved his wand and the doors automatically opened. Harry followed Slughorn to a room left of the original room. This room mirrored the previous room in décor. However, it did not have a sense of coziness that had been present in Slughorn's bedroom.
"I'll go transfigure you some clothing, but sleep for now, you must be tired after all of this." And Harry couldn't agree more. Slughorn left the room and the doors closed quickly behind him.
Harry took up his lab coat that had been already dried by now and placed in on the desk. Harry laid down on his bed and covered himself with the blanket. Harry digested all the information that he had received from Slughorn. Today was just one surprise after the another. Harry wondered if Ron and Hermione were okay and if Snape was dead by now, though Harry doubted it. Harry wondered what had happened to Professor Lupin and Tonks and if they had gotten married already. This lack of memories annoyed Harry to no end. Why would he just suddenly forget everything? Why does everything have to be frustrating? What happened everyone he knew? Were they all dead, alive, or slaves to this world that Voldemort has created? What about Malfoy? Was he living the perfect live with his parents coddling with riches while Harry's friends suffered?
With the thought of the blond boy still on his mind, Harry fell into an uneasy sleep and hoped that tomorrow would be better than today.