Prologue
Mr and Mrs Dursley of No. 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey are as normal a couple as one would come across. Mr Vernon Dursley doesn't cater to anything that can remotely be called unnatural, thank you very much. Although his wife, Mrs Petunia Dursley tends to gleam for gossip or two when she is out and about on her errands, or when she was doing the housework, or taking care of their infant son, or just peering from behind the closed curtains – all these things are normal. Who wouldn't be curious to know about their neighbours, after all?
Naturally, one can only imagine their surprise on the morning of 2nd November 2001, when Mrs Dursley opened her front door to collect the milk bottles - only to find a baby basket on the step of her front door. She stifled her surprised shriek by sheer willpower alone and took a glance around before scooping the basket in her arms and hurrying inside the house.
"Vernon, oh my god! Vernon!" Her delectable and delirious, dulcet screech brought her devilishly debonair and dashingly hand – er – ful husband down from the upper floor. The gentle 'man' has just gone to the bathroom to get ready for the day. He was trimming his bashfully boisterous bushy set of the moustache with an electric shaver when his wife's very pleasing howl crashed against his concentration and made his hand jerk, resulting in a very devastatingly disastrous shake of the hand, because of which, Mr Dursley would have to go clean-shaven for the first time in well over a decade.
Nonetheless, Mr Dursley sprinted from the upper floor bathroom of their modest two-story home and reached the kitchen on the ground floor within two minutes, huffing and puffing like a locomotor.
"Pet? What is the matter?" His thunderous footsteps shook the upholstery of the kitchen.
His pink housecoat clad wife could only point towards the abhorring anomaly which was haphazardly hefted and heaved on the kitchen table by the whimpering woman. It took Vernon quite a few moments to understand what made his wife scream – erm – call for him so early in the morning, and when he did, his half a moustache bristled at the mere thought of what has happened.
You see, Petunia was not the only child of her parents. Her younger sister had gone to a boarding school up in Scotland, a school that specialized in brewing potions out of batwings, frogspawn and nonsenses like that. Vernon never understood how such a steadfast woman like Petunia has a sister like this Lily. And how could their parents even allow such nonsense to cross the threshold of their home? Not only that, but they also let their daughter run off and get married to that no-good tosser of a husband, Potter. Vernon has met the two of them only a couple of times and he understood that they were the freaks that his parents had warned him and his sister about. Who in the ever-loving God's green earth turns into a big honking stag right in the middle of the living room?
With wary feet, Vernon stepped closer to the basket and peered into it. He frowned at the little boy that lay there sleeping, wrapped in a blue blanket and a letter tucked under his arm. He reached for the letter when Petunia rasped from behind him –
"Be careful with that, Vernon. I heard tales from her that that kind could cause trouble through written letters."
Vernon's hand snapped back like it was scalded by the mere proximity of the letter. He took a deep breath and once again reached to take the letter out from under the child's arm.
So far so good, nothing freakish happened when his hand came into contact with the letter. He carefully opened the envelope and shook it over the table. A high quality, weighty piece of paper (a rather jealous voice whispered at the back of his mind that this type of paper is called parchments, and only the elites seemed to use it these days) fluttered down on it. Husband and wife looked at each other before Petunia mustered her courage and reached for the paper with a trembling hand. She opened the letter and with a little cough to clear her throat, began to read it –
Dear Petunia,
It is my sad duty to inform you that your sister and brother-in-law – Lily and James Potter are no more. On the night of Halloween, their house was attacked by a dark wizard. The two of them have put up a considerable fight but ultimately succumbed to their demise, living behind their only son, Harry James Potter, the sole survivor of the tragic night.
I hope that you have heard from Lily that our world was entangled in a – civil war you could say – between two factions. Lily and James were two of the most prominent figures of the Light faction, and almost every individual of our world are saddened by their sudden and untimely passing. They are being hailed heroes who have finally brought an end to a decade long conflict. Little Harry, however, is considered a saviour as the dark wizard was defeated when he tried to turn his wand upon him with an intention to kill. None knows what happened, but Harry survived with nought but the scar upon his forehead whereupon thousands before him had succumbed to the curse. It is a day for all to rejoice as the sun shines upon the world free from the darkness after a long and arduous time.
However, even with the defeat of the said dark wizard, many of his followers are still around. It is paramount that we look after the safety of this innocent child who has lost his parents even before understanding what he lost. Poor James had lost his parents and other relatives shortly before they graduated from school. Now, Harry is the sole living member of the Potter family. Lily's love and sacrifice may have protected him, but he is not completely free of danger from the worst elements of our society.
I humbly request you to provide a safe and loving environment for little Harry to grow up in till he is ready to re-join us in ten years. You are Lily's blood, as the child is also hers. The protection Lily has blessed upon him at the cost of her own life, along with the wards I have erected around your property based on the almost same conditions, will cover you from any and all danger as long as Harry calls the place his home.
I know about your estrangement from your sister, but I beg you to let the past lie in the past and forget whatever discordance you had with your late sister. I am sure Lily would have performed her duties admirably if the situation was reversed.
You have my condolences in this trying time.
Yours faithfully,
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
A silence followed as Petunia finished reading the letter. A few minutes later, Vernon bristled in indignation –
"How dare he! This…this Dumblebore fellow has no consideration about what this will do to our lives! We have our own child to think about, and now there is another one fostered upon us without giving us the opportunity to deny. I say we throw him out! I know of a few orphanages that I can drop him off on my way to the office! By the end of the day, we will be rid of all this freakish nonsense!"
Petunia whimpered, making Vernon frown, "Pet?"
"We can't!" She wailed, not unlike her son.
"We can't what?" Vernon was confused.
"We can't just throw him out of our house!"
Vernon looked incredulously at his wife.
"Think about it, Vernon. They know where we live, what is stopping them from looking at us right now, waiting in the shadows to pounce at us if we try to get rid of him?"
Vernon's eyes widened at that. He waddled as fast as he could to the front windows and peered outside from behind the drawn curtains. After satisfying himself that no freakish looking person is standing outside, he exhaled loudly.
"There is no one outside, Pet. It will be okay."
Petunia shook her head hysterically, "No, it will not, Vernon! You don't know these freaks! She told me they have ways to find anybody they want. And from this…" She waved the letter at Vernon's face, "this brat is well known for whatever freakish thing they did. We have no choice but to smile and bear the burden."
Vernon grasped his hair in his fists, he wanted to pull at them but then he remembered his already thinning pelt, he threw up his hands in frustration.
"But then, when he grows up, he will go to that freak school and come back with a pocketful of frogspawn like you said she did."
"We will hide it." Petunia's face shone in determination.
"Eh?"
"We will hide all of this…this freakish nonsense from him. Make him grow up like a normal boy. Granted, he will not be as perfect as our Dudders, but we can suppress all this magic nonsense of him, and once he reaches his adult age, we can kick him out of our loving home. We will just have to bear it for the ensuing years."
Vernon was not fully convinced yet, "We can always sell this house and move elsewhere after we drop him at an orphanage…" he threw his idea aloud.
"Do you even hear what you are saying? Sell the house!? What will the neighbours think?"
Vernon deflated hearing that. It was indeed true that the neighbours will gossip that they had fallen into hardship and were forced to sell their lovely home to get out of bankruptcy. Oh, the horror!
As the adults were contemplating the future, the little child opened his eyes from his slumber. He was confused at first looking at the unknown environment. He wondered where his mother was, as she was always there whenever he wakes up.
"Mama? Dada?" Harry called out for his parents.
Petunia flinched when she heard the brat calling out for the freaks. Vernon lumbered to the basket and loomed over the little boy –
"You will be quiet, or else! Do you understand, you freak?"
Harry's lower lips trembled at seeing the giant red face scowling down at him. He wanted to see his mother very badly.
Vernon picked up the basket and went out of the kitchen, Petunia hurried after her husband wondering what he was up to. He stopped at the boot cupboard under the stairs and wrenched open the doors before shoving the basket there and closing the doors with force. He turned to see his wife staring at him with wide eyes.
"What? If we can't get rid of him, then he can stay under there. It is still under our roof, innit? This way, we don't have to look at his freakish face longer than we need to."
He climbed back up the stairs to go and finish his trimmings, only a few minutes later, a shrill scream so very much as his wife sounded from the bathroom when he saw that he was missing half of his facial ornament.
[WoW]
Little Harry whimpered in the darkness of the strange, smelly place he was in. He wondered why his mama and dada haven't come for him when he called. Who was that red-faced man? Harry was scared of him. He hoped that Pafoo and Mooey will scold the red man for scaring him. He would even settle for Womy, even though he never liked him much. His little hands grabbed the blanket tightly as he heard a loud noise coming from somewhere outside of this dark place. He wished for his mama and dada to return to him soon.
[WoW]
Albus Dumbledore sat in his chair, feeling the weight of his hundred and ten years old body. All of the students and staff of Hogwarts were cheering, well, most of them are. Some of the Slytherins had sequestered themselves in their common room when the news of Tom's defeat broke. He knew that Minerva was in her office, much like him, probably shading tears for her lost cubs. Severus was inconsolable for the past two days…and Hagrid, bless his gentle heart, he was probably down at the Hogs' Head drowning his sorrow.
Fawks jumped from his perch and landed upon his desk, his trill made Albus look up to his faithful companion.
"Was I right in my decision, Fawks? Did I do right by Little Harry?"
Fawks ruffled his feathers and started to sing soothingly. Albus broke down crying at all the losses he had had to endure in his cursed long life.
"Forgive me, Lily…James!"
A.N. - This is the plot-worm that has been bugging me for a long time. This will be a genuine crossover between HP universe and MCU. I will primarily continue this one at patr3on. You can follow its progress at lamonserga (without spaces).
