Title: Here There Be Monsters

Synopsis: In which Dudley takes to telling a little Harry Potter that he's part monster. This beings why no one will talk about his parents. His monster father killed his mother and left Harry with them. So it's only natural that when everyone refers to the Dark Lord as a monster and a demon that Harry jumps to the most logical conclusion: Lord Voldemort is his father. Pre-slash.

Updated: Nov 2022

Chapter One

"What?"

The half-giant stopped in his retelling of the war and found verdant green eyes staring up at him. There was an unfaltering intensity to those eyes he was not prepared for. "Sorry?"

"You said that the man who gave me this scar, the man who caused the war, who killed all those people, he was-"

"As Dark as anyone can go. A monster among good witches and wizards."

There it was again. It was the first time Harry had ever heard of another one. Another monster. He thought he was the only one left. The only monster to hide amongst the humans. Harry Potter reached out and grabbed hold of Hagrid's jacket. "Hagrid. His name. Please."

The giant of a man looked to have swallowed his tongue. The air around them solidified with the anxiety the man felt. Long seconds passed before he let out a large sigh. Finally: "V...voldemort."

"Voldymore," Harry repeated and then frowned. That didn't sound exactly right. "Voldehmore... Vol-de-"

"Shh!" Hagrid hissed. When Harry looked to him again, the man was as pale as the bathroom linoleum at Privet Drive. "I don' know much, mind. But he... You-know-who killed... Harry I'm so sorry! There wasn't no one sweeter than your mum and your dad-"

"He killed my mother?!"

Hagrid burst out into large shaking sobs, but nodded his head. Harry stared at him as if expecting him to take it back, to say all of this was a silly joke that the Dursleys had concocted. It wouldn't be the first time they had played such a cruel prank to teach him a lesson. But Hagrid hadn't been too fond of the Dursley's last night. As the man continued to sniffle Harry accepted that Hagrid was telling the truth.

Which was... which changed everything. Absolutely everything.

If he had thought that discovering he could use magic was a dream come true, he had been wrong. This monster- this Voldemort- had killed his mother.

Harry sat back and stared into nothing. Internally he was going through everything he knew about monsters. Monsters tended to hide under beds or in other dark places like the cupboard under the stairs. People were scared of monsters, children especially. (Voldemort succeeded where he was found lacking. Harry, being no good as a monster, had never been able to scare the Dursleys very much.)

And that thought brought him back to this revelation that superseded all else of this day. Because when Harry was a babe, he was given his scar by a wizard that committed great and terrible acts. Ollivander had been very clear. The monster that had killed his mother had tried to kill him. Had failed to kill him.

The same monster Dudley had spoken of for as long as Harry could remember. Always hissing the words through the slat in his cupboard door. "Wittle Monster Hawwy Potter doesn't have a family. Your monster dad killed your mummy, he did. Killed her and left you alone."

Harry had always thought that meant that his dad, too, had died. Why else would he be given to a family like the Durselys? They weren't scared of monsters, not in the ways that mattered. Or rather, what little fear they had for Harry had made them angry and agressive.

Hagrid had calmed down finally and looked at Harry as if he was expected to break out into tears next. Harry in actuality wanted to jump for joy. He had a dad. He had a family. "A monster..." the newly christened wizard spoke with reverence. "Voldemort was a Monster?"

He knew Hagrid had no reason to joke- he wasn't like the Dursleys- but Harry appreciated it all the same whent he giant man nodded. "Those were dark times, Harry and your parents... well, they never really stood a chance. He killed some of the greatest witches and wizards of the time. Nothing could have been done once he set his sights on you."

"My mum-" Harry interrupted, "She was a witch, right?"

"Aye. One of the kindest and brightest I've ever met. And your da-"

"Voldemort. He was a monster..." Harry whispered.

Hagrid flinched at the name, but nodded again. He looked worried, but Harry paid him no mind. That's why Aunt Petunia had always called him a Freak. He was the son of a Monster and a Witch; there was no wonder Hagrid thought their relationship never stood a chance. At least something in his life was starting to make sense. This was why all those strange things had happened around him all his life. And why all those kids- and even some teachers- seemed scared if they were anywhere near him.

They sensed that he was different. That he was a Monster.

Harry didn't really feel much concern about how negatively Hagrid used that term. He would hardly be the first or the last to view Harry in such a light. (Although it would be a bit unfortunate to lose his first friend so soon.) It's what he was. He couldn't change being born a Monster like his Father anymore than he could change being born a Wizard. And while one received the accolades in this new world the other was sure to be feared. That didn't bother Harry either as both would be frowned upon in the world the Dursleys lived in.

"Thank you, Hagrid," Harry said.

Even if Monsters were scary, that didn't mean he had to be scary to everyone he met. Harry also had no idea how a proper Monster should act. He decided to behave like a proper wizard until he was told otherwise. And even if he had no idea how to do that either, there were many examples to be had in Diagon Alley. "Hagrid..." Harry thought aloud as he stared at the mass of people who milled about Florean Fortescue's. "What happened to Voldemort?"

Hagrid flinched again. Poor fellow was terrified of Harry's dad. "Blimey, Harry. You can't go around sprouting You-Know-Who's name like that."

Harry blinked up in confusion. "Why?"

"Why?! Merlin's beard, people are still terrified of 'im. 'Why', he asks." Hagrid mumbled the last sentence to himself so low it sort of rumbled out of his big bushy beard.

Harry thought it would be rude to point out that he could hear him anyway so waited for the groundskeeper to continue unprompted. ( Did monsters have better hearing?) "Anyway," he began, "The Dark Lord vanished that night he tried to kill you."

Vanished? How does one simply vani- oh right. Magic. Almost as quick as that thought came to Harry, another followed on its heels. It gurgled low in his stomach like old milk and brought a heavy lump to the base of his throat. "Did I kill him?" Harry whispered in horror.

The world around him turned fuzzy around the edges. There was a tightening that ran from the base of his neck down the middle of his back. The world around him began to sway, sending the images of the shoppers whirling around with it. Harry felt an all too familiar shaking of his hands. This used to happen every time Uncle Vernon's face started to change colors. He tangled his fingers into his pants. When Uncle Vernon would see his fingers tremble his face would turn purple and he would start swinging. While Hagrid might appear more amiable he was also five times the size of Uncle Vernon. Harry did not want to know what it would feel like if one of his fists connected. (Not like he wouldn't deserve it if he really did kill his own dad.)

With the ease of years of practice Harry refused to allow his breathing to hasten and dug his fingernails into the meat of his legs. The sharp pain helped to give him something other than his thundering heartbeat to focus on. He allowed Hagrid's voice to wash over him in the meantime- another distraction from his narrowing throat. "Some... not me, mind you, but some say he died. Codswallop, if you ask me."

The relief was instant and overwhelming, soaring like an airplane in his ears. If he hadn't been currently sitting down Harry was sure he would be on the floor. He didn't dare hope, but Hagrid knew a lot, after all. If he thought that Harry's dad was still alive, then it must be true.

'But then again,' Harry thought to himself. 'He might be angry with how everything turned out.' From the sound of things, Voldemort had been nigh unstoppable until Harry had come along. And while this could mean that Harry was stronger than his dad, he very much doubted it.

Harry nodded once to himself. Everything was working out rather well in his opinion. Now that he knew he had a dad somewhere, he didn't have to stay with the Dursleys anymore. And it would be helpful that there were plenty of people scared of Voldemort. That meant they were less likely to argue when Harry asked him to take him away from the Dursleys.

Of course, he would have to apologize for almost killing the monster first. How should he go about doing that, he wondered? 'Maybe a fruit basket?'

"Well tha's enough of all that. Let's get goin' and start on yur shoppin'. I have to meet the Headmaster soon. Very important business to be done."

Hagrid patted his pocket a few times. Harry had forgotten about the grubby little package that they had picked up in Gringotts. He wondered idly as they left the ice cream parlour if it was as important as Hagrid said it was. Surely he shouldn't be just carrying it around and rather take it directly to the Headmaster if so.

Harry's gaze wandered to the other in an appraising manner. Or if Hagrid was part monster too then perhaps he was stronger than he looked. If Hagrid was as strong as he was big (and he was very large in a manner completely different from the way of Uncle Vernon and Dudley) then the answer was obvious. No thief in their right mind would dare to approach the man for fear of reprisal. It was rather smart of the Headmaster to entrust the Groundskeeper with such a project.

Harry pulled out his school list just for something to do with his hands. It always ended badly when he was caught staring more than was proper. (Not that he really knew what was proper as it fluctuated so often let Aunt Petunia tell it.)

The list was clear in at least one thing: they had a lot of shopping to go. Harry would need a cauldron, all his textbooks, and a standard black robe- whatever that last meant. "What is a standard black robe? Is it different from the ones everyone else wears?"

"Madam Malkin will take care of ya, don' worry yerself about that."

When they reached the seamstress' shop Hagrid shooed him inside and went off by himself. Madam Malkin's Robes for Every Occasion was larger on the inside than one would guess. This seemed to be the standard for magical shops which stood to reason magical homes shared this quality. Harry could probably make his cupboard larger if he learned how to do so. (Of course that was only if the Dursleys ever let him back in his room; he did not much care for Dudley's spare bedroom at all.)

The lady bustling around took one look at him and knew immediately he was going to Hogwarts. Harry wondered if there was a certain look that Hogwarts students had that gave him away? Or was it because he was so young and there was another child about his age on one of the platforms? Or maybe- just maybe- he looked like his parents. He wondered how likely it was that she knew his dad? Perhaps he could ask- "Hogwarts too?"

Harry blinked in surprise and turned to the other boy. He was rather surprised a stranger would even talk to him- Aunt Petunia said it was bad manners. Then again, it was probably only bad because strange people used to speak to him all the time. In retrospect they were probably witches and wizards. Which meant that in his new world, it was normal to speak to strangers. Even expected.

It had taken him a few seconds to think of all this. Even so, by the time he opened his mouth to reply, Harry had already forgotten what the other boy had said. "I-I'm sorry?"

The little boy rolled his eyes and tilted his chin up a bit more. Harry could see up his nose with the new angle and wondered if that was its purpose. It seemed a very silly thing to do. "You are a wizard, yes? Your parents are one of our kind as well?"

Harry wondered if he was supposed to tell people about his father. Sure, it was common knowledge, but there seemed to be a bit of a taboo about talking about him per se. "My mum was a witch. My dad is not."

The boy's nose scrunched up. "Well, I suppose that's something. Did your mother raise you at least?"

Harry shook his head, wondering why it mattered. "My parents are dead. My aunt and uncle raised me. My mum's sister." He added the last as an afterthought since the nosy boy seemed to be so particular about the differences between his mum and dad. Maybe he knew that his dad was a monster and thought that Harry was dangerous too. He didn't want to be chased around by everyone else like Dudley and his friends did. Least of all someone so... pointy.

"That's rather lucky. My father says that those that do not learn the traditions are a drain on our society and I must say I agree. You do practice the Old Ways?"

Harry blinked in confusion. What Old Ways? And was the boy's father someone important? It was doubtful he was as important as Voldemort but maybe he was of at least some influence. If that was the case it was best that Harry not offend the boy.

Harry's fears appeared to be of little concern as the blond boy continued on without even waiting for his reply. "Well, of course you do. My father says that every family of worth does. Do you know which house you're going to? I'm bound for Slytherin, of course. My father says that only the best are allowed so it's the best house. Everyone in my family has attended. Just imagine if you were sorted into Hufflepuff-" he scoffed at the idea. "I'd just get on the train back home, wouldn't you?"

Harry wondered if the boy planned on allowing Harry to answer any of his questions or ask a few of his own. (And wondered again if his father was somehow important. The other boy certainly seemed to think so.) Some of the words he was throwing around appeared to be wizarding specific. Harry had no idea what most of his statements meant by result.

"No one really knows, of course," Draco concluded with a sigh as if the weight on an eleven year old's shoulders was so great.

What on Earth was a Hufflepuff? Slytherin sounded easy enough. It probably had something to do with snakes. Being an Addertongue, surely that house was the one Harry would go to. "Slytherin," Harry spoke with resolve. "Like an Adder?"

The blond boy cut off whatever diatribe he had gone on while Harry had been thinking and regarded the other boy with a frown. Harry didn't much care for that frown. "Well, the house mascot is a serpent. But I doubt it would be anything so ordinary. More likely it's a runespoor?"

Harry didn't know what that was. But he didn't want to sound stupid either. "I've never met a Runespoor before, but I hear that Smooth Snakes are quite ill-tempered. Addy says that it's because they live in cold places."

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about. My father says-"

'And there he goes again,' Harry thought with a sigh.

If nothing else, at least he was learning the dangers of idolising his dad early on. He'd hate to sound like such a prat.

"What did you say your name was?" the blond boy asked.

Harry inwardly groaned. He hadn't said his name. In fact, he was going to make it a point to not say his name as much as possible. After that escapade in the Leaky Cauldron he knew that he did not want his name spoken if he could help it. If one more person congratulated him on almost killing his dad he thought he would be sick. "That's you done," the seamstress called to Harry.

He immediately jumped down from the stand and hurried over to the front so he could pay for his robes. Just as he was gathering the parcel he heard a knock at the window. Hagrid was there with a snowy white owl. "Happy Birthday!" he called.

Harry grinned and forgot everything about the rude boy being measured for his own robes. He grabbed his parcels and hurried out of the store. "Thought I'd better get ya a proper birthday present."

Hagrid's beard was so large and bushy that it sounded like he said 'birfday present'. Harry grinned up at the man. This was the nicest thing anyone had done for him. Although he much preferred the birthday cake from yesterday, but maybe monsters didn't eat sweets? That seemed right enough. Harry had very little confectioneries growing up and doubted Voldemort was hiding a biscuit addiction. "It's a lovely bird, Hagrid. But I wouldn't know the first thing about how to handle her."

Harry wondered if he was to eat the bird- that's what the sort of things monsters in storybooks did. Eat people and other animals whole. "Owls are smart creatures, Harry, and bloody useful too. Just give her a little water and a nice place to rest when she's done flying about and she'll take care of herself. I've named her Hedwig."

Relieved that he wasn't supposed to eat the beautiful white owl after all Harry reached into the cage to pet her. Without hesitation she nipped at his fingers. Although the bite wasn't hard enough to draw blood it gave him a bit of a fright. "Looks like she likes ya!" Hagrid rumbled his large laugh.

"She bit me."

Hedwig hooted. It wasn't exactly the same scolding as Aunt Petunia but it did feel similar. Hedwig sounded like she thought he was an idiot for not noticing that her bite was a sign of affection. (Aunt Petunia often just said he was an idiot outright.) "Frightfully smart birds, Harry," Hagrid repeated.

Harry wondered if the action translated to other people as well? Was he supposed to nip people to show his affection? Monsters had fangs and claws- neither of which Harry presently had, but there was room for growth. He was only eleven after all and some of the people he had seen today looked ancient. Ollivander looked like he was older than the queen. (Harry distantly wondered if the Queen knew about witches and wizards. Probably as Aunt Petunia said Queen Elizabeth knew everything.)

"It's best we be off to Flourish and Blotts now."

By the time they had left the five stores necessary to get all his supplies Harry was exhausted. He had taken to sitting on his trunk at the small respites between stores which were never more than a minute or two. He had everything the letter said he would need. Hagrid had to remind him to follow the letter of the law, so to speak and not spend too much on extra purchases. That hadn't kept him from sneaking purchases when the taller man wasn't looking and getting a trunk that had expanded compartments on the inside. Harry had received a few raised eyebrows from staff for his texts recounting his dad's actions in the war. (Harry thought it was both silly and amazing that grown witches and wizards were so terrified of his dad. It said a lot that they refused to simply write his name, even a decade after his supposed destruction.)

Hagrid gave him one more warning before he said goodbye. "Now don't go practicing spells now that you have yer wand. Underage magic is still illegal and if you're caught, you'll be expelled."

All Harry took from this was that he had to make sure he wasn't caught practising magic. He much doubted this was Hagrid's plan in telling him so. Early on in Flourish and Blotts he had added a book about underage magic when they had gone to the bookstore. It was a compendium of the laws and regulations that governed those under the age of seventeen. He had hoped it would tell him how his dad could go about getting custody from the Dursley's. It would prove to be helpful in this instance as well.

Now he only needed to figure out how to fit a trunk and Hedwig's cage in his cupboard.