Response to Reviews:
delia cerrano: I am glad you like it. I always thought that Harry could've done better, especially if he had someone to support him. He's used to not being someone's priority, except for Dumbledore's, but he doesn't count because he doesn't actually care about him.
Millie072: I always thought that they let him keep his wand after second year, especially since in the books he was able to defend against dementors that came after him and his cousin. I personally like Phineas' character and I might try incorporating him later. And I also agree with you about Hermione, she's a muggleborn and could've sent him a letter the muggle way. And as for Dumbledore...*evil chuckle* I'm going to have fun writing his temper tantrum.
Guest: I'm not doing a story where everything is about Harry's feelings on betrayal, but I'm not just going to dismiss it entirely either. To name one thing, he had been through a lot during the third task of the Triwizard Tournament, including seeing Cedric die, and his friends still didn't contact him. If you'd been through a traumatic experience, you wouldn't want to be alone.
Disclaimer: I DO NOT own any Harry Potter characters besides some OC ones that may or may not pop up. I also DO NOT own any story plots that are canon. I do, however, own the things that ARE NOT canon.
"Come on, we must hurry," Older-Harry said as he glanced around.
"Why?" Harry asked, unable to hide how eager he was. "What's going on? Where are we going?"
"I can't explain everything right now," he said, glancing around once more. "We need to go, now."
"Wait! What about my things? What about Hedwig? And-"
"We're going to go get your things and Hedwig," Older-Harry said. "Let's go. Act natural, like nothing's wrong."
Harry nodded and hurried to keep step with him, stowing his wand back inside his pocket. They passed the park and made their way towards Number 4 Privet Drive.
"What should I call you?" Harry eventually asked. "I keep calling you 'Older-me' inside my head."
The older man snorted, a grin appearing on his lips for a brief moment. "Officially, I am named Hunter. Hunter Isaac Peverell."
"Officially?" Harry asked. "And why Peverell? Are you impersonating someone?"
"I know you have questions Harry," Hunter said, "but they'll have to wait until I get you out of here. As soon as we're settled in my home, I'll explain everything. I promise."
Harry stared at him a moment, reading the expression in his eyes and looking at his body language. After a moment, he nodded. "Alright."
"Okay, I need you to listen," Hunter said as they approached the end of the street. "This is what's going to happen. You're going to walk into the house and tell Petunia that someone from the magical world has become your guardian and that she and Vernon don't have to look after you anymore. She'll be so happy to know you're leaving that I know, without a doubt, that she will unlock the cupboard for you to get your stuff. Grab your trunk, your Firebolt, Hedwig and her cage, and then come back here. There's no need for you to get clothes. Do you understand?"
Harry wanted to ask why it was so important that Aunt Petunia not know who he is, but hearing his urgent tone and seeing how he kept glancing around, he refrained from asking and instead nodded solemnly. "What about you? What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to stay here and wait for you," he answered. "I can't be seen by someone."
Harry was about to ask who that someone was and why they can't see him, but then remembered Hunter's promise to tell him everything later, so he closed his mouth and merely nodded again.
"Alright, go, and be quick," Hunter urged. "And when you're talking to Petunia, do not mention my name, alright?"
With a nod and an 'Okay', Harry turned and quickly, but not overly so, made his way back to the house, thoughts bouncing around in his head like a bludger around a Quidditch pitch. Why did Hunter come back? How did he come back? What is it that has him so on edge? Who was the person that he said has him fooled? Who betrayed his trust?
It was that last question that unsettled him the most. Harry doesn't trust easily, but the few people he does give his trust to means everything to him. To think that someone he trusts has betrayed him, to think that they casually threw away something he doesn't give freely, chills him to the bone.
He was so lost in his thoughts that he arrived in front of Number 4 quicker than he realised. He opened the door and stepped inside, making sure to close the door loudly enough for his aunt to hear. He didn't feel like looking for her.
"Boy? Is that you?" her voice came from the living room, her tone biting and vexed. Harry followed it and found his aunt sitting on the couch, a magazine in her hands and a cup of tea on the coffee table in front of her. She scowled when she saw him walk in. "Intolerable little brat, why the hell are you back so soon? You normally stay out later than this."
Harry ignored her acerbic tone and answered, "I got an owl while I was out Aunt Petunia."
If possible, her scowl deepened further at the mention of an owl. "And?" she snapped, the magazine in her hands starting to crinkle from the force of her tight grip. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"Well, the letter the owl was carrying had a message for me," he explained, struggling not to let the excited grin appear on his face. "It turns out I have a remaining family member in the wizarding world and they're going to have me come live with them."
Petunia lost her scowl and a shocked looked replaced it. "Excuse me?" she gasped out.
"I have another magical relative," Harry repeated slowly. "They're having me move in with them. You and Uncle Vernon don't have to take care of me anymore."
Petunia's eyes went wide with shock, her mouth opening and closing not unlike a fish. A smug smile then overtook her face for a split second before she fought to replace it with a neutral look. Her eyes were still showing her pleasure, however. "I see," she said carefully. "And when, exactly, are they coming to fetch you?"
"They're waiting for me right now," Harry replied, wanting to roll his eyes at his aunt's bad acting and her obvious eagerness. "As soon as I get my things, I can leave."
Petunia stood abruptly, setting her magazine aside. "Well then," she said as she walked towards the kitchen, "the sooner you're gone the better, I say. No more having to deal with you and the freakishness that comes from your world will be a welcome relief. I'll unlock the cupboard so you can collect your rubbish, go and fetch that ruddy owl of yours."
Harry grit his teeth at the way Petunia was describing his most precious things and his familiar, but refrained from saying anything. The quicker he gets his things, the sooner Hunter can take him away from here. He turned away and made for the stairs, taking them two at a time and entered his room, making his way towards Hedwig, who was resting on top of her cage.
"Hey girl," Harry said with a grin as he approached her. "Guess what? We're getting out of here."
Hedwig hooted at him.
"That's right," Harry said. "We're leaving right now. But you need to go in your cage for now, okay?"
She hooted again, this time managing to sound indignant.
"It's just for a little while," Harry pleaded. "When we get to the place we're going to, I'll let you out, I swear."
Hedwig didn't make anymore sounds but did settle back into her cage. She even managed to look disgruntled, to Harry's hidden amusement.
Harry rubbed her head quick before he shut her cage. Taking one last look around his room of the last four years, he exited out the door without a backwards glance. Holding Hedwig's cage to his side, he made his way carefully towards the top of the stairs, passing by Dudley's room and ignoring the sounds coming from within. His aunt was waiting for him at the door, his trunk near her feet and his Firebolt sitting on top. "Hurry up, I haven't got all day," she barked when she saw him.
He made his way down, taking his time so as to not jostle Hedwig too much in her cage. "Vernon is still at work," she said stiffly. "I'll let him know about your…situation, when he returns."
Harry merely nodding, electing not to say anything. "Here." She picked up his broom as if it were a stick of dynamite or a muddy shoe, and thrust it at him. Harry took it and tucked it under his arm as she quickly retracted her hand, then grabbed his trunk with the hand not holding Hedwig's cage.
Petunia opened the door, seeing as Harry's hands were full. "Good riddance," she muttered as he passed her. The door slammed shut as soon as he stepped outside, the lock sliding in place not long after.
Remembering Hunter's warning about being quick, Harry wasted no time in hurrying down the sidewalk, dragging his trunk as he went. He tried to keep it off the ground as much as possible, since it was making such a racket as it was dragged along the concrete. Strangely enough, there was nobody out and about to notice him dragging a trunk while carrying a broom under his arm and an owl cage in his other hand. Harry was pretty sure he looked ridiculous. Finally, he made it to the place he was with Hunter last. He looked around but saw no sign of the wizard.
He bent over to set his trunk down and Hedwig's cage on top of it before he stood back up again - and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Hunter standing right in front of him. "Blimey," he exclaimed, a hand on his chest. "You totally scared me, mate."
Hunter smiled briefly as his remark, before he became serious again. "Did you do everything I said?" he questioned.
"Yes," Harry nodded.
"Petunia doesn't know who I am, right?"
"No," Harry shook his head. "I didn't even mention what gender you are."
"Excellent." Hunter smiled appreciatively. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a key chain. "This is a portkey to my house. Just grabbed on and we'll be on our way."
"Just like that?" Harry asked, his nerves starting to flare up at the thought of everything being a trick. He wasn't used to good things happening to him, with how his childhood was nobody could blame him. He spent most of his early years being verbally abused by his muggle family, with the occasional backhand or slap. Petunia even hit him once with a frying pan because the bacon he had cooked for breakfast that day wasn't 'crispy enough'; it was still hot. Dudley bullied him in school and, because of his gang, nobody tried to befriend him. When he arrived at Hogwarts, he was excited to learn about magic and make some friends, but everyone treated him like some sort of tragic hero when he really wanted to be just a regular student.
His first year at Hogwarts, he was loved and looked at as a hero, then hated by mostly everyone because he tried to help a friend out and lost house points. In his second year, he was everyone's beloved hero again, before it got out that he can speak to snakes, and everyone started fearing him and hating him. His third year wasn't so bad as the other two, but being made fun off because he can hear the deaths of his parents really made his temper explode. And last year, everyone, including Ron, had believed him to be a liar that wanted more fame by entering the Triwizard Tournament. As sad as it was, Harry was used to having the rug pulled out from under his feet, and he was used to everything good that happens to him be lost under all of the bad.
Hunter smiled, easily reading Harry's unease and trepidation in his eyes and the twitching of his arms. He reached down and grabbed Hedwig's cage in his free hand before he looked back at Harry, his own green eyes showing genuinity and earnesty. "Just like that," he said softly.
Harry stared into his eyes, the ones so like his, but still so different. He saw sincerity in the gaze leveled at him, and felt his lips lift into a smile. "Okay," he said.
With his Firebolt under his arm and his trunk in his hand, he reached out and grabbed ahold of the keychain in Hunter's hand.
They both disappeared without a sound, no sign that they were ever there in the first place.
Elsewhere, in a castle located in the Highlands, an old man felt a shiver of foreboding go down his spine.
Harry landed on his feet with a jarring thud, his eyes shut tight. A groan left his lips as a slight nauseating feeling crept into his stomach.
The first time he had used a portkey was when he, Hermione, and the Weasleys went to the Quidditch World Cup the summer before his fourth year. He hated how it made him feel, regardless of how quickly it got them there. But then, the last time he had used a portkey, was when the fake Moody enchanted the Triwizard Cup to take him to Voldemort.
That had put him off of portkeys. If it was absolutely necessary to use one, like Hunter did to get them away from Little Whinging, he'd grit his teeth and bear it. But if he had a choice, he'd rather ride his broom, even if it'll take longer. Since he can't apparate yet, those two, along with the floo, were his only means of transportation.
When the nausea subsided a little, he opened his eyes to take in his surroundings. And immediately, he sucked in a startled breath and felt his eyes widen at what was in front of him.
"Welcome," Hunter said, a smile in his voice, "to Peverell Cottage."
When the word 'cottage' is mentioned, for some reason, a picture of a small, slightly rundown house with only one floor and by a body of water pops into Harry's mind. But that is in no way close to describing Peverell Cottage. For one thing, it wasn't rundown; in fact, its appearance made it seem as if it were built only a few weeks ago. It was two stories high and it was wide as the Great Hall of Hogwarts was long, maybe slightly less. And that's just how wide it is, he has no idea how big the rest of the house is.
He and Hunter were standing on a brick pathway that led to the front door of the house that also led around and to the back of it. The house and its front and (presumably) back lawn was surrounded by tall hedges with a gate in the front, giving off a sense of privacy. Tall trees were surrounding the property beyond the hedges, indicating they were in a forest. The trees themselves weren't close enough to be crowding, giving the place a more secluded feel, but not as suffocating or intimidating as the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts.
Peverell Cottage wasn't as grand as a manor, but that's what made it seem more charming and inviting. It wasn't outstanding in its splendor, it was more subtle with its presence. You had to really look, not just cast a casual glance at it. The dark colored bricks it was made of stood out against the green grass it was situated on, and the rays of sunlight that managed to get through the trees shone upon the building, making it seem as if it had a golden glint to it.
As Harry observed his surroundings, some of the tension that still lingered in his body from the start of summer leaked out, making him feel light and carefree. It was just settling in that he was free from the Dursleys. No more muttered insults from his aunt and uncle, no more hiding from Dudley and his gang, no more unfulfilling food, no more feelings of entrapment, no more of any of it.
He was free.
He was startled out of his thoughts by a noise from Hedwig. He turned around and saw Hunter putting her cage down on the ground and bent to open its door. She immediately flew out, her wings spreading to their full length, and landed on Harry's shoulder.
He laughed as she nipped at his ear softly. "I told you you'd be let out, didn't I?" he said to her, an affectionate smile on his face.
Hedwig didn't make another sound, merely nipped at his ear again. Harry let out another laugh and turned to look at Hunter. He was looking at them with a small smile, an emotion in his eyes that Harry couldn't quite put his finger on.
"Come on," he said. "You haven't been inside yet."
Harry nodded. "Okay." He looked up at Hedwig. "Go on and explore girl, just make sure your back later."
Hedwig hooted again, and flew off his shoulder, only to land on Hunter's. She nipped at his ear like she did Harry, before she flew off into the trees. Hunter watched her go, the smile from earlier crossing his face again. Watching how Hunter looked towards Hedwig, with small smiles and emotion in his eyes, Harry came to a depressing realisation. "She's gone in your time, isn't she?" he asked softly.
Hunter turned his head to look back at Harry, the smile now gone from his face. He doesn't answer, but Harry understood what he didn't say.
"Let's go," he said, picking up Hedwig's empty cage. Harry followed after him, his trunk in one hand and his Firebolt in the other.
Hunter opened the door and led Harry inside. As he stepped into the house, Harry gazed around in awe. While the outside of the house gave off an ethereal feel, the inside was simply cozy. The furniture was chosen with an eye for comfort instead of looks, and the few windows that aligned the walls allowed for the house to feel spacious, as light from the lingering sun filtered through. A large fireplace sat against the far wall.
"This is the living room," Hunter explained. "Through the archway on the right is the sitting room, and the doorways on either side of the fireplace lead to the kitchen."
"It all looks really cozy," Harry admitted.
Hunter quirked his lips in a grin. "Thanks, I thought so too."
He then led him to some stairs off to the side that Harry hadn't notice. "The second floor is where the bedrooms and bathroom are located," he explained as they climbed the stairs. "There are five bedrooms. Pick any one you like, but the one on the far end is mine. I'll be downstairs when you're done settling in."
Harry nodded wordlessly, staring at the doors lining the hallway. He was startled when he felt a hand land on his shoulder and flicked his eyes over to see Hunter staring at him. "I know all of this must seem overwhelming," he said to him. "But you're handling everything really well. Just…try not to overthink things you don't know yet, okay? I'll explain everything I can later."
Harry couldn't help the small smile that spread across his face. Hunter was right, everything really was overwhelming. Things were changing and it was happening faster than he expected. But Hunter had gotten him away from the Dursleys and seems to be doing everything he can to help him. And really, that's all he's ever wanted. "It's okay," he told him honestly. "I can handle it."
"I've no doubt about that," Hunter said wryly. "I used to be you, after all."
He reached up to ruffle Harry's hair slightly, causing the teen to protest a little at making it messier than it already was, before he turned around and went back downstairs.
Far away from Peverell Cottage sat another impressive home. But unlike Peverell Cottage, this home is ostentatious with its beauty, and practically screams, 'look at me!'. It's name is Malfoy Manor, home to the Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy and their son Draco, along with their house elves. However, ever since the end of the Triwizard Tournament that took place at Hogwarts, Malfoy Manor has gained another house guest. That day, you'd find this person pacing thoughtfully in front of the fireplace in the large living room, his inhuman face set into a scowl, his ruby red eyes narrowed, and his thoughts miles away. This man is known by a few names by many people. One of them, is 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and another one is 'You-Know-Who'. The man is fine with most of the wizarding world calling him that, it means they fear him, as he thought they should.
Another name he is known by is Lord Voldemort. That is what he wishes to be called, what should be uttered when people speak about him in hushed whispers or with awe in their voices. His followers, his loyal Death Eaters, simply call him 'My Lord'. And he is fine with that as well, because he is their lord. He is the Dark Lord Voldemort, heir of Salazar Slytherin.
However, there is another name that he is known by, but only few people know about it. Actually, he could count the number of people who know the name on one hand. It is the name his weak pure-blood mother gave him, the name of his muggle father. And he hates it with a passion. The name he used to have, Tom Marvolo Riddle, reminds him that he isn't a pure-blood, despite the fact that he's Slytherin's heir. He despises muggles and everything they stand for, and to have his father be a muggle, to carry his name for eighteen years despite Slytherin's blood running through him, makes him rage.
But despite all of that, right now, Voldemort was thinking about a certain boy who always seems to mess up his plans, ever since the brat was a first year at Hogwarts. Harry bloody Potter, along with his mudblood and blood-traitor friends. Potter wasn't supposed to survive the graveyard, wasn't supposed to make it back to Hogwarts and warn that blasted headmaster. Voldemort fully intended to kill Potter as soon as he got his body back, but he supposes that he had too much fun tormented the boy.
But despite the fact that he got away, no one at the ministry seems to believe him or the old fool. In fact, they're slandering both of their reputations in the Daily Prophet. Their precious Boy-Who-Lived is now the Boy-Who-Lies and an attention seeking brat. Dumbledore is no longer their beacon of light, and instead is a barmy old fool. He's also no longer the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, something Lucius was only too smug to tell him.
A cruel smirk crossed Voldemort's face. "With the ministry refusing to acknowledge my return, and everyone believing Potter and the old fool to be liars, no one would be paying attention to me," he said to himself. "No doubt Dumbledore would recall that infernal group of his, The Order of Phoenix," he sneered the name. "But they're harmless. They don't have the guts to stop me, nor my followers."
Voldemort stopped his pacing and turned to stare into the fire, the light from the flames making his already glowing red eyes burn even brighter. "Those idiots won't know what hit them."
Harry descended the stairs of Peverell Cottage, intent on searching out Hunter. The room he had chosen had a window that looked over the backyard. To his surprise, Harry saw that there was a greenhouse in the back, sitting right up against the hedges. It looked to be as big as the one of the greenhouses back at Hogwarts.
His room was very spacious, with a comfy bed, a writing desk, and a wardrobe that already contained clothes for him. He had immediately made himself at home, placing his trunk at the foot of the bed and Hedwig's cage on the desk. Before he left the room, he opened the window so Hedwig can come in when she gets back.
"Hunter?" Harry called out when he saw the man wasn't in the living room.
"In here," his voice rang out, coming from the kitchen. Harry followed it and came to a surprising sight. The kitchen itself was magnificent, a table for four off to the side.
However, what made him pause was what Hunter was doing. He was standing at the stove, stirring something in a pot that Harry couldn't see. But judging by the smell, it was something good. Really good. Seasonings were flying off the rack to dump some of their contents into the pot while he was stirring before settling themselves back into place. In the sink, there were dishes that were washing themselves and then setting down on the drying rack when done.
"Hi," Harry said timidly, his hands twitching slightly at not knowing what to do with himself in this situation. Everything seemed to be running smoothly.
Hunter turned to look at him, a smile tugging at his lips. "Hey," he said warmly, stepping away from the stove to walk towards him. When he let go, the spoon continued to stir. "Did you pick out a room?"
"Uh, yeah," Harry said. He felt a little awkward; what kind of conversation do you have with someone who is you, but at the same time, not? "I didn't know you had a greenhouse," he went with a safe topic.
"Yeah, I grow some plants and my potion ingredients in there."
"Potions?" Harry couldn't help but say, shock coloring his voice.
Hunter's lips twitched in amusement. "Yes."
"Why?"
"Despite how Professor Snape made it seem during our school years, it's actually a very useful subject. It's very relaxing."
"Relaxing?" Harry's voice took on a high pitch.
Hunter let out a laugh. "It's just like cooking," he said in amusement. "Well, except if you make a wrong move your potion could explode in your face."
"Uh huh." Harry couldn't find anything to add to that. "Um…do you make potions in the kitchen?"
"No," Hunter shook his head. "I've converted the basement in this house into a potions lab."
"Oh."
Harry went quiet. He finally has the opportunity to know what's been kept from him, but now that he's here, he doesn't know how to bring it up. Does he just ask outright? Does he wait until Hunter brings it up? Does he dance around the subject until he finds the right opportunity?
Unknown to Harry, Hunter can tell exactly what was going on through the teen's mind. He wore his emotions on his sleeve and wasn't good at keeping his face neutral...yet. He was finally going to get what he wanted; answers to questions he's been asking for years. But now that he had the chance, he doesn't know how to go about it. And when he finally asks the questions, he won't know what to do with the answers.
But Hunter needs to prepare him for the reality.
"Dinner is almost ready," he said as he turned back to the stove.
"Dinner?" Harry questioned, glancing out the windows of the kitchen. It still seems early.
"It's a little late for lunch," Hunter explained. "We'll just have an early dinner. You're going to need this evening to think."
The implications behind that statement did not escape Harry, whose eyes widened slightly at what Hunter was saying.
"Go sit down," Hunter motioned with his head at the table. "I'll bring it to you."
Harry sat down, not questioning what the older man said, his mind still on what he said moment earlier. 'Is what he's going to tell me be so bad?' Harry furrowed his brow. 'What could he possibly say that will make me break down? What is being kept from me? Who lied to me? Why did they lie to me?'
Harry was wrenched from his thoughts when Hunter placed a bowl in from of him, the soup he made filling it to the brim and handed him a spoon. "Here."
Harry smiled shyly at him in thanks, not used to this kind of hospitality from anyone except Mrs. Weasley, before he started eating. A comforting warmth spread through his body as he kept shoveling down the food, not like Ron however. It was probably one of the best dishes he's ever eaten, including some of the ones at Hogwarts.
Hunter, who had sat across from him to eat his own soup, was smiling slightly as Harry devoured the food that was placed in front of him pretty quickly. He wasn't halfway done with own when Harry finished his whole bowl. 'Not surprising,' Hunter thought, his smile turning bitter, 'He only gets enough food when he's at Hogwarts or with the Weasleys.'
Harry looked up when he finished. "That...that was really good," he admitted.
Hunter's lips pulled into a smirk. "I'll take the compliment."
Harry settled back into his chair, a smile forming on his face and closed his eyes. The stress was gone, he didn't feel as sad as he was an hour ago, and his stomach was full for the first time in weeks. He felt...peaceful. Unfortunately, the feeling will not last.
"In about a week, a couple of Dementors will show up at the Dursley house."
Harry's eyes snapped open and he gazed at Hunter in shock. He wasn't looking at him, his eyes focused on his food as he ate. "What?" Harry gasped. "Dementors? Why? I thought they guard Azkaban."
"They do," Hunter lifted his eyes to look at him. "But think about it Harry. What is a Dementor's specialty?"
"Making you feel really cold," Harry answered, his eyes going blank as he remembered each of his encounters with the creatures. "They bring out your worst memories so you relive them over and over again."
"That's right. But what is the other thing they do that makes them so deplorable?"
"The Kiss," Harry said after a moment. "Right? The Dementor's Kiss. When they suck your soul out through your mouth."
Hunter nodded. "Exactly. Someone from the ministry is going to send a couple of Dementors after you to have you Kissed."
Harry reeled back slightly. "The Ministry is after me?" he asked in shock. "But...but I haven't done anything! I haven't used magic or anything!"
Hunter sighed. "Look Harry," he said, his voice going soft. "After the end of the third task of the Triwizard Tournament, you appeared with Cedric's dead body and told everyone that Voldemort was back."
"What does that have to do with anything?" Harry asked in frustration. "All I did was tell the truth!"
"And therein lies the problem," Hunter said. "No one, except a select few, wants to believe that he's back. You've been stuck with the Dursleys for the last few weeks, so you haven't seen The Daily Prophet, but they've been describing you as a liar who craves attention so badly that you'd make up horrific stories just to get people to listen to you."
"What?" Harry said hoarsely. "But...b-but I'm not! I hate my fame! It's not my fault that they all believe me to be some kind of hero!"
Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. They all think he's some kind of liar just because he told them that Voldemort was back. What, did they think the problem will go away if they just ignored it?
"So that's it?" he asked. "Fudge is going to have someone try to shut me up?"
"Not exactly," Hunter shook his head. "See, Fudge doesn't want to be the Minister that allowed Voldemort to return. The Ministry is in control of The Daily Prophet and Fudge used them to slander your name. However, someone who is loyal to him doesn't think that just destroying your reputation is enough, so they want to shut you up for good. And even if you managed to defend yourself against them, you would use magic and be called in for a hearing about your 'improper use of magic'."
Harry scowled at what Hunter was telling him. He couldn't believe how far people will go just because they wouldn't even consider the possibility of Voldemort being back. They should be preparing themselves! They should be making sure that he can't powerful again or something! But suddenly, something that Hunter said came back to him. "What do you mean Fudge 'used' The Daily Prophet? Is he doing something else now instead?"
A smirk crossed Hunter's face. "The Ministry and The Daily Prophet got away with slandering your name in the past because you didn't have a proper magical guardian. However, since I became your magical guardian and gained custody of you, they've backed off in fear of being sued for slander."
"Oh."
Harry felt a little bit of the tension leave his body at what Hunter said. He knows that there was already nasty stuff written about him that has already damaged his reputation, but at least there won't be anymore.
A thought occurred to Harry. "Hunter, did you let Dumbledore know what's going on? He's going to be worried if I'm not at the Dursleys."
To Harry's surprise, a dark look passed over Hunter's face. "Oh, he'll be worried alright," he said darkly.
"What's wrong? Why would Dumbledore worrying about me be bad?" Harry questioned him. A cold feeling was slithering down his spine and his breathing was getting slightly labored. He probably knew somewhere in the back of his mind what Hunter meant, but he needed to hear it from the man himself.
Hunter stared at him intently from across the table, his green eyes staring into the ones across from him with a little sadness. Sadness, Harry will come to realize later, that wasn't directed at the situation, but at Harry for having to say what needed to be said. "You cannot trust Dumbledore Harry," he said seriously. "He has never acted in your best interest, and he never will."
Harry stared at him, shocked beyond belief. 'I can't trust Dumbledore?' he thought in silent horror. 'But...he's Dumbledore! The Headmaster of Hogwarts! He always makes sure I'm alright. I trust him…'
Something Hunter said earlier that day came back to him. 'You've been lied to and deceived by someone you trust.'
"Wait...Dumbledore…" Harry's voice trailed off as his emotions started acting up.
Hunter nodded grimly, correctly deducing where Harry's thoughts went. "Dumbledore has been lying and playing you ever since you stepped foot into Hogwarts. Even before then."
Harry didn't want to believe it. He wanted to be able to call Hunter on his lies and demand to be taken back to the Dursleys, owl Dumbledore and have this whole mess swept away and under the rug. But he knew he couldn't. Maybe it was the fact that Hunter had taken him from the Dursleys, or had fed him food without him asking, or seems to genuinely care about him, or even that he's actually himself from the future. But in the short amount a time they've spent together, he came to trust him more than he's ever trusted anyone. He wouldn't lie to him.
"Are you sure?" Harry croaked, a small part of him still holding onto the belief that Dumbledore had actually cared about him all these years. "Maybe you've got it wrong. He's always helped me."
Hunter nodded. "I've lived through it," he said softly. "Trust me when I say, he doesn't care about you." Hunter hated being so blunt, but the boy needed to hear it and process it as the truth.
And that's when the dam broke.
A sob broke through Harry's lips. And another. And another, and another, until his body was shaking from the force of them. He didn't notice that his fists were clenched and shaking at his sides. He didn't notice that he was shaking is head slightly in slight denial. He didn't notice Hunter wrap his arms around him in a hug. All he could focus on was the fact that Dumbledore, the man he saw as a grandfather, the man who he always went to with his problems, the person who always seemed to push him in the right direction, the person he thought would always be on his side. All he could focus on was that the man never cared for him.
He didn't yet know the extension of Dumbledore's manipulations, didn't know how Slytherin the self-proclaimed Gryffindor was, nor how much he hid under his grandfatherly facade. He didn't know the things he's done to accomplishment what he likes to call 'The Greater Good' or the lengths he'd go to achieve them. That will come later. Unfortunately for Harry, Dumbledore was far worse than he could've imagined.
And there's another chapter!
I'd like to think that I got Voldemort's character mostly accurate and I described Peverell Cottage adequately.
Would you guys like to have Ron and Hermione be bad guys? Semi-bad guys? Good guys who've made bad choices? Good guys?
Thank you for reading and stay tuned for the next chapter!
R&R!