The weeks preceding Harry's twelfth birthday were stiflingly warm. The weather was strangely humid lending an unpleasant mugginess to the air that stuck to the skin and turned the gardens of suburban Surrey a riotous green of quickly growing grass and shrubs.
The Dursley family of number four Privet Drive were more than happy to push any outdoor chores onto their unwanted nephew's shoulders. Since the day Harry had come home for the summer he had been out in the awful weather mowing the grass, tending the flowers, and pruning the bushes. His relatives seemed determined to have Harry in their presence as little as possible.
Harry spent any time that he wasn't doing chores or locked in his room at the local public library enjoying the brief respite from the heat that the air conditioning gave him. The first week was spent completing Dudley's summer work. It was interesting, to tell the truth, and Harry enjoyed catching up with the classes that he would have taken if hadn't gone to Hogwarts. He wondered if there was any way to keep up with it during the school year. There had to be a way to get access to normal textbooks. Maybe he could find a way to duck into muggle London to check the bookstores there when he went to get his Hogwarts supplies. It was a shame that he wasn't allowed to do his own summer work, all of which was locked in the cupboard under the stairs, but he couldn't have everything he supposed.
Doing Dudley's homework had another benefit that had Harry snorting with laughter every time he thought of it. Dudley, Harry knew, was not getting particularly good grades at Smeltings. So in retaliation for being forced to do Dudley's work, and knowing that his Uncle would at the very least glance at it to make sure that Harry hadn't deliberately undermined his son's grades, Harry had done his level best to do a spectacular job on every assignment. On top of that the handwriting, admittedly dreadful, was all Harry's. Dudley, Harry knew, would never do the smart thing and re- write it all in his own hand like his father would tell him to, he was far too lazy.
A highly respectable boarding school like Smeltings took a very cold view on plagiarism and it would be exceedingly obvious that there was no possible way Harry's dim cousin had done this quality of work.
Served him right.
The chores Harry had to do took up most of this time though so his own personal studies were rather impeded. Harry's love of mysteries, and his own little foray into the land of detective work the year before had him leaving his beloved detective novels behind and delving into the, theoretical for now, world of forensics and crime solving. Now that Harry was not caught up in the moment and had time to just think about it all he could think of dozens of ways he could have done it all differently the year before. Done it all better. He swore to himself that he would plan things out better in the future.
In between studying chemistry, biology, and mathematics Harry began obsessively researching his newest hero; the detective known only as 'L'.
Harry wasn't sure who exactly the person was, nobody really knew, but they were brilliant. L only took the hardest and most fascinating cases. He was the one that the authorities went to when body counts got to high and they were in way over their heads. L took the weird cases, the bizarre ones. The exciting ones. As far as anyone could tell L had never failed to close a case once he took an interest in it. Of course, nobody had any proof that L even was a he, Harry privately thought it was more likely to be several people working together but he had no proof of that either. Harry enjoyed trying to pick apart documented cases and trying to follow the logic and clues all the same. He just wished he had more time to do so.
Sadly slave labor took precedence over study time in the Dursley household as far as Harry was concerned so the day of his birthday found Harry outside in the blistering heat painting the garden bench and spreading fresh fertilizer on the flower beds wincing as sweat drops slid over the bloody welts on his back that he had gained the day before when his Uncle Vernon had discovered that Harry was sneaking letters out with Hedwig. Harry couldn't help it though, his pen friend book was locked away with his wand and school books under the stairs. He didn't want to stop talking to Near. Unfortunately, when she had returned with Near's latest letter Hedwig had been padlocked into her cage and his Uncle had ripped up the note before Harry had a chance to read it.
Today Harry, instead of being banished to his bedroom indefinitely as further punishment, had extra chores to do because his aunt and uncle were having guests over that night and they wanted everything to look perfect. The Masons, a married couple that was representing a company of high-end resort builders looking to make a large order of drills for their latest project, were coming over for dinner and Harry's Uncle Vernon was determined to get the commission for the sale.
Grinding one holey knee of his filthy ragged jeans harder into the ground as he turned to dip his paintbrush back into the white paint can Harry almost didn't notice the large green eyes staring at him from the hostas.
Whipping his head back towards the greenery he stared for a moment. There was nothing there. Had he imagined it? Maybe the lack of food, a sporadic punishment for having the audacity to exist, and constant heat was getting to him. He was a bit light headed, perhaps he should chance a drink of water from the garden hose.
Reaching to do just that Harry's heart jumped unpleasantly at the sight of a partially obscured ugly green-eyed gremlin... thing crouched in the dark shadows and leaves next to the tap. Harry, badly startled, jerked backward accidentally hitting the paint can and spilling the glossy white paint across the lawn.
Scrambling backward in an awkward crabwalk smearing more white paint across the grass and onto his hands and the hems of his jeans he gripped his paintbrush tighter in his right hand ready to use it as a pathetic sort of weapon.
The person... creature... thing... whatever it was stared up at Harry with wide eyes before it began to creep toward him. Just as it was about to step out of the dense leaves and show itself to Harry more clearly a very unwelcome voice spoke up behind him.
"I know what day it is!" exclaimed his cousin Dudley causing Harry to turn and look at him.
Giving a quick glance back to the bushes and seeing nothing, whatever had been there was gone, Harry turned to his cousin and said, " Finally learned the days of the week Dudley? Well done."
" It's your birthday! How come you haven't got any cards? Haven't you got any friends at that freak place you go to?" Dudley taunted while waddling closer trying to pull his enormous trousers up higher over his enormous posterior with one hand while clutching a bright red ice pop in the other.
Harry, managing not to flinch at this spot on observation, rolled his eyes and responded, " Better not let your mum hear you talking about my school."
" Or I could just tell mum that you are out here doing freaky stuff. Anyway, when mum sees the mess you made you're gonna be in big trouble! I'm gonna tell her!" Dudley taunted with a nasty grin.
Looking around himself at all the paint on the ground with growing dread Harry knew he was, indeed, in big trouble.
Standing up to face his cousin more evenly he quickly weighed his options. None of it looked good.
Well, Harry decided, if he was going to be beaten for it anyway...
Pointing one paint covered finger at Dudley he shouted, " Hocus pocus!"
Dudley's clothing from shirt to shoes turned bright pink.
Dudley stood there in frozen horror for several seconds before sprinting for the front door shouting for his mother in a high terrified voice. " MUMMY! MUMMY! Look what the freak did to me! He used his freak powers on me!"
Harry stood by himself in the garden stunned, tuning out the angered shrieks of his Aunt Petunia trying to calm her wailing son. What had just happened? He hadn't done that had he? He was sure that he hadn't. 'Hocus pocus' wasn't a real spell after all and Harry had no idea how to cast magic without a wand. Was it even possible? Magic was all about visualization, intent, and power Harry knew, and he certainly hadn't been thinking about turning Dudley's clothing pink. So how had it happened?
Anger surged through Harry's veins as he crouched on the floor prying at the bottom hinge holding his bedroom door to the wall. Millimeter by millimeter the pin inside the hinge slid upward fighting the white paint that had dripped on it the last time the door had been painted.
It had been difficult waiting for all of the Dursley's to leave the house before enacting his escape plan. Harry and Hedwig had been locked in the prison that had once been Harry's bedroom for two weeks now and Harry had been beginning to worry that his relatives would never leave him home alone.
Gripping the thin strip of metal (The battery cover stolen from Dudley's broken toy tank.) more firmly in his hands Harry heaved all of his strength into forcing the pin up the last few centimeters. Popping free at last the pin flew off to the left and rolled away. Harry let it go, he had no further interest in it. One down, two to go.
Standing up straight he began forcing the strip of metal under the head of the pin belonging to the hinge in the middle of the door.
His birthday had been two weeks ago now and he was still being punished for attacking Dudley. He didn't bother trying to convince his aunt and uncle that he hadn't. There was no point as they would never believe him. After all, what could he say? That he thought that the little man hiding in the bushes may have done it? That sounded crazy, even to him. The warning letter sent from the Ministry of Magic didn't help either. Now his relatives knew that Harry was not allowed to defend himself and that they could do as they liked to him. They had been beating him anyway of course, as the welts on his back could testify, but not like they had before he had gone to Hogwarts.
As soon as his uncle had gotten home from picking up the dinner jackets in anticipation for that night's dinner party Harry had taken a foot to the stomach, a favorite punishment from his uncle, and several hits to the head before being thrown, quite literally, into his bedroom.
The next day the bars and locks had turned his bedroom into a makeshift prison. The catflap added to the bottom of the door ensured his near starvation. Twice a day his aunt would shove a can of cold soup through and that would be all he would get.
He was allowed out twice a day to use the bathroom and be beaten again. Other then that his isolation was nearly complete. Not for the first time all he had was Hedwig.
He had wondered, as the days passed, what would happen if he didn't show up at Hogwarts. Assuming that he didn't starve to death before September first would someone come to get him? He wasn't sure, Hagrid had come to bring him his first letter after all, but none of the teachers seemed overly concerned with his wellbeing the year before. Maybe they would just take his absence to be his way of disenrolling.
The second pin had been easier than the first, sliding free with little effort right into Harry's waiting hand. He tossed it aside. One left.
Quickly crossing to the other side of the room Harry grabbed one end of the rickety desk and dragged it toward the door. Once there he clambered on top of it, hoping it wouldn't collapse under his weight, and began his work on the final hinge.
Glancing worriedly at his only companion he said. " See Hedwig, I told you I would get us out of here."
Hedwig was the real reason for Harry's anger and jailbreak.
His sweet, loyal, very much beloved best friend was slowly dying.
Harry was trying to help her of course. He really was. But owls simply can not live off of cold soggy vegetables. He always gave Hedwig what he could from the soup Aunt Petunia would leave them but in all honesty it wasn't enough for just him, let alone him and Hedwig too.
Her eyes weren't as bright as they had been just fourteen days before. Her feathers were a bit droopy. She had lost weight, he wasn't sure how much of course as he couldn't get her out of her cage, he didn't have anything strong enough to pry the padlock on it open, but however much it was, was noticeably too much. Worst of all, she had become quite lethargic, sleeping more than could possibly be healthy and barely moving even when awake.
Hedwig was starving to death and Harry wouldn't have it. He needed to get her out of here fast. He hoped desperately that it wasn't too late. Owls were very common in the magical world, surely he could get help for her there? Someplace like Diagon Alley must have something that would pass as a veterinary clinic.
It took several minutes to get the final pin free due to the awkward angle but he finally managed it.
Giving a little whoop of triumph Harry jumped down from the desk. His head spun for a moment, dizziness washing over him causing black spots to dot his vision. Stomach surging in discomfort Harry reminded himself to grab something to eat on the way out the door.
Gripping the door by the now useless hinges Harry pulled until he could get his fingers through the small gap to the other side. Holding the door as firmly as he could he gave several strong yanks. The line of locks on the other side of the door, the only things holding the door upright now, were not built to withstand pressure from that angle and gave with a splintery crunch, destroying the outside door frame entirely before the whole thing fell to the floor with a thud.
They were free.
Not caring one bit that he had destroyed the Dursley's property Harry, carefully carrying Hedwig, made his way downstairs. Placing Hedwig down on the kitchen table Harry turned to the cupboard under the stairs and stared at it thoughtfully. Like Hedwig's cage, it was padlocked shut.
How to open it? He needed his wand and invisibility cloak for the rest of his plan to work after all.
Harry knew that his Uncle Vernon was unlikely to have taken the key with him to the amusement park that they had taken Dudley to for the day in celebration of finalizing the deal with the Mason's resort company. Unfortunately, Harry didn't know where he may have left it and didn't want to take the time to search. The Dursley's had only been gone for a couple hours, having left right after breakfast, and Harry didn't expect them to return until after dinner time but he couldn't be certain. It would be best to leave as soon as possible. So no key.
He could remove the door the way he had with his bedroom he supposed, but that wouldn't help him get Hedwig's cage open and he needed to do both.
With sudden inspiration, he strode into the kitchen to retrieve the wooden broom from the pantry, left there due to Dudley's constant dribbling of food onto the floor.
Deciding to free Hedwig first Harry slid the long handle into the loop at the top of the lock. Gripping the wood on either side Harry twisted it. It didn't take much before the cheap lock gave and popped open.
Happily discarding the lock onto the floor he opened the cage door and invited Hedwig out. He became even more angry and concerned when she didn't leave it, instead choosing to fluff up a little and close her eyes to sleep. Harry gently shut the door again, secure in the knowledge that it could be reopened at any time.
With an increased sense of urgency, Harry snatched the broom back up and shoved it through the lock on the cupboard door. It was stronger than the one on Hedwig's cage and it took Harry bracing the bristle end of the broom on the floor and shoving with all his meager might on the other end to pry it open.
Pulling out his school trunk Harry realized that his plan wouldn't work. It was too big and there was no way he would be able to get himself, Hedwig ( Cage and all.), and a giant trunk from Privet Drive to Charring Cross Road all by himself. He would need to revise.
Rushing back upstairs Harry, rather nervously, ducked into his aunt and uncle's bedroom. Opening the closet to retrieve his uncle's black rolling luggage bag he paused. At the top of the closet, hidden slightly by a pile of neatly folded winter shirts, was a small black tackle box. Harry knew that his Aunt kept important documents in it. Passports and the like. Grabbing that first Harry opened it. Inside he found about a thousand pounds in emergency money in various denominations and the families birth certificates, passports, proof of their guardianship over Harry, and several other documents. Including Harry's second year letter from Hogwarts.
Taking the luggage, money, and any paperwork he found that had his name on it Harry returned the box to the closet and headed back downstairs angry all over again.
Opening his trunk he removed his wand, invisibility cloak, vault key, and small money bag and set them to the side. Everything else save for Dudley's old hand me downs was carefully transferred to the luggage bag.
It was time to go.
With several pieces of fruit stuffed in his pockets, he headed out the front door not bothering to lock it behind him. Only taking the time to retrieve the still paper wrapped philosophers stone from the garden shed Harry, carefully covered by his invisibility cloak, strode off toward the bus stop leaving Privet Drive behind for what he desperately hoped was the last time.
It was well after lunchtime when Harry finally walked in the doors of the Leaky Cauldron blinking several times in the relative gloom to help his eyes adjust from being in the bright sunlight for so long. After spending several hours traveling by himself, which was much more difficult than the year before when Hagrid's bulk had parted the crowds for him, he was ready to eat and take a nap. But he knew he couldn't. Hedwig still needed him.
Walking up to the counter Harry looked around for the proprietor Tom. Spotting him cleaning the counter top Harry wandered closer, careful to keep his bangs over his scar to avoid unwanted attention.
" Excuse me?" He began tentatively, waiting until he had Tom's attention before continuing, " Do you know if there is a veterinary clinic here in the alley?"
"Veterinary clinic?" Tom asked clearly confused.
Did wizards have a different name for them? Harry hoped so or he didn't know what he was going to do. Trying again he explained, " Yes, you see, my owl is sick and I don't know what to do. I wanted to have her looked at but I don't know where to go."
"Ah, I see, you want an animal healer," Tom said in understanding. " Well, the Scamander's place is the best for that. It's just past Gringotts on the right-hand side if you are going from The Cauldron."
Immensely grateful Harry beamed at him before asking, " How much would it cost to get a room here until September first?"
"Trouble at home Mr. Potter?" Tom asked concerned. Noticing Harry's slightly panicked look he hurried to explain, " Don't misunderstand son, anyone who can pay can stay, that is the rules of The Cauldron and always will be, but you are awfully young to be staying here by yourself. That said, so long as they don't bring problems to The Cauldron it isn't my duty to turn in a runaway. I just prefer to know what's going on in my place you see. And Mr. Potter? Of course, I know who you are."
Harry stood considering this for a minute. He didn't like the idea of confiding in this relative stranger. It wasn't Tom's business what Harry did or how he lived. Yet Harry knew that staying here for weeks on end by himself as a twelve-year-old would definitely raise red flags. It would be better to be honest and not burn any bridges unnecessarily, he decided. Especially as he would probably want to return next summer as well.
" My relatives don't approve of magic," Harry said simply.
That got the expected response.
Frowning Tom asked, " Muggles?" seeing Harry's nod he continued, " I get kids like you every few years here. Sad thing, but unavoidable I suppose. It's five and a half galleons a night to stay. That includes three meals a day at seven, one, and six-thirty. Did you want to pay now or head to the bank first?"
" Can I pay for one night now and the rest when I get back from the bank? It's just that I want to leave my things in the room while I go out." Harry asked pulling out his money bag and looking inside. He had nine galleons, six sickles, and a handful of knuts.
" Of course son," Tom replied excepting the money Harry held out. " Do me a favor Mr. Potter, let me know when you come in and out each day so I can keep an eye on you?"
Harry looked up at him in surprise as he accepted his change.
" You're very young Mr. Potter. I can't make you do it but I would like to know you are safe here." Tom told him.
It wasn't an unreasonable request, Harry decided. It cost him nothing and it would be good to have somebody watching his back, even if only distantly. " Alright," he agreed.
" Thank you, Mr. Potter," Tom said as he picked up his discarded cleaning rag and began wiping down the countertops again. " In return, I will give you some advice. Here in The Cauldron, you can do magic without being caught by the ministry trace. I don't mind it, just keep it to your room if you would. Don't brew potions in there though, it's dangerous. Also, buy yourself a book on the history of The Leaky Cauldron. It's good you came to stay here, but you should know why. And Mr. Potter? Buy yourself a hat, it might keep you from getting mobbed." He finished with a wry grin before handing Harry a key with the white number eleven written on it. "Just up the stairs and follow the numbers. It will be on the left."
Thanking him Harry left his things upstairs before double checking that he had his wand and vault key. Gently taking a still sleeping Hedwig with him he went back down the stairs and out to the back where the entrance to the alley was.
After a quick scan of his mental files to remember the right brick he tapped his wand on the wall and watched as it melted away. It was just as spectacular as before.
Heading past the bustling shoppers, reminding himself that he had all the time in the world to window shop later, Harry set off to the animal healer.
About eighty-five kilometers from Privet Drive, Near stared out the open window of his dorm room trying to convince himself that he wasn't searching the sky for a familiar snowy owl.
Seeing nothing he turned back to his dice.
Pulling a new die from the box next to him he calmly reached forward and neatly set it on the top of the half-built astronomy tower, the number two facing toward him just like all the others.
Turning briefly to the book in front of him he contemplated the castle depicted on the pages before reaching forward again to adjust the die to leave room for a window.
Continuing his construction project almost absently Near considered the lack of letters from Owl.
It had been two weeks ago, the second to last day of July, that Near had sent his last letter to Owl. He would have preferred to have sent it in the pen friend book as it was much faster but apparently Owl's relatives did not care to have magic in their home and had locked away all of Owl's school supplies with the decision that he would not be getting them back until September. It was incredibly inconvenient. Owl post was much slower than any communication Near was used to. It was reliable though, so not receiving any more letters was concerning. Especially considering how devoted to sending them Owl seemed to be.
Even more concerning however was some of the things that Owl implied in his letters. When Near had shown the letters to Wammy to get his opinion he had been alarmed as well. Some of the things Owl had written, and most of the things he had not, about his family was rather troubling.
Owl's relatives would not give him access to his school books. They would not let him use a computer to chat. They would not let him use the phone. Owl had admitted, albeit reluctantly, that his aunt and uncle didn't like him at all and that he did not get along with his cousin either. Near got the impression that they did not know that Owl was sending letters with his owl. Of course, Owl never said it was a problem but Near could tell Owl was being very careful about what he wrote down. Owl was treating his otherwise rather boring letters far more covertly than he had any of the frankly illegal things he talked about during his school year. Near knew that his building desire to have Owl checked up on was echoed by Wammy if only they could locate him. It wouldn't do to lose their only in with magic and their only lead on the dark lord case after all. Owl really should be under surveillance anyway all things considered. A background check at the very least. Owl had said that he had grown up in the non-magical world so there had to be records of him somewhere. Near always liked to know where his toys were.
Astronomy tower completed Near turned his attention to creating a smaller building off to the side, the soft clicking sound made each time he stacked a new die calming his thoughts and allowing his mind to drift toward more important matters.
He considered what he knew of Owl's location.
Owl could not live very far from Wammy's House, Near knew. A snowy owl could only fly up to eighty kilometers an hour, though forty-eight kilometers an hour was far more common. More than once Near had received a return letter within four hours of having sent one himself. If he cut the time in half to a two-hour flight either way and then factored in the time it would take to read the received letter and then write an outgoing one Near could extrapolate that Owl lived between seventy-one and ninety kilometers away depending on Hedwig's flight speed. Did magical owls fly faster than normal ones? He wasn't sure but supposed it didn't much matter regardless of his dislike of uncertain variables.
If Owl's family was harming him, and Near strongly suspected that they were, how was Near going to convince Owl to admit to it? No matter how intelligent Owl was, abused children did not part with such information easily. Many of the Wammy's House children came from that sort of background and most still never spoke of it.
Perhaps that was one of the things bothering Wammy so badly, Near considered. Wammy hated child abusers the way that L hated boredom and Near hated people touching his toys. Blindly.
He was pretty sure that Wammy was doing his own searches for Owl. With L, Wammy, and Near all trying to find him it was extremely unlikely that Owl would remain anonymous for long. Near gave it maybe two more weeks, letters or no, but only because there were no electronics to trace. It was a comforting thought.
Near paused, right hand coming up unconsciously to twist a lock of his hair around and around his fingers.
Comforting?
The emotion was promptly lost as Near's formidable mind tore it to pieces while trying to analyze and categorize it. With a slow blink, Near let the sensation go.
Turning back his die created gamekeepers hut he fished out a new die and carefully placed it onto the half-formed north wall. Why was nothing about Hogwarts castle symmetrical?
They would find Owl. There was nothing more to it really. The search for hidden persons was a game that L and his heirs had all but mastered. And when they did they would have all the information on him, and his relatives, as they could possibly want.
And if his relatives were as bad a Wammy and Near feared? Well, Near would be teaching them exactly why even Mello no longer touched Near's toys.
Leaving his room to bathe several hours later Near left a perfect scale model of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry behind.
Two days after arriving in Diagon Alley Harry lay flopped on his stomach on the most comfortable bed he had ever been in reading through his second-year defense books.
They were terrible.
They were less like defense instruction texts and more like the worlds most poorly written adventure novels. There wasn't a single spell that was actually explained and they certainly didn't instruct readers on how to cast any.
Snapping 'Travels with Trolls' closed in disgust Harry tossed it onto the floor and watched as it skidded across the room to sit with 'Gadding with Ghouls' and 'Voyages with Vampires'. After a second thought, he threw 'Break with a Banshee', 'Holidays with Hags', 'Wanderings with Werewolves', and 'Year with the Yeti' down to join them. The floor was where they belonged, he decided. They were little better than door stops after all. Harry didn't know who this Gilderoy Lockheart chump was but he knew the man was an idiot. Harry had hoped the defense class this year wouldn't be as worthless as the year before but if this was their assigned reading he wasn't going to hold his breath. Self-study it was then.
Checking the time on his new silver watch Harry sighed. Still two more hours until he could pick up Hedwig from Scamander's Animal Healing and Advocacy Clinic.
The healers on duty had been less than impressed with Harry when he had arrived with Hedwig two days before. They had wanted to confiscate Hedwig from Harry entirely for animal abuse. It had taken Harry half an hour to convince them that he was not responsible for her sorry state. Even then they hadn't really believed him until Hedwig had woken during her check up and refused to be held by anybody but Harry until it was completed and Harry had pleaded with her to stay at the clinic to be healed. After that, he had spent several more minutes dodging questions as to how she had come to be in such poor condition. Harry was pretty sure that the Scamanders would kill the Dursleys if they ever found out that it was their fault Hedwig was so ill. Harry was just glad they believed that it wasn't his fault, they were a little scary.
Feeling antsy and needing something to do to pass the time Harry dug through his suitcase, mentally reminding himself to purchase a new trunk, and pulled out his neglected Pen Friend book. It had been too long since he had written to Near.
Flopping back down on his bed Harry opened his book and poised his pen over the parchment trying to decide what to write. He didn't want Near to know that he had run away from home. Unless he was willing to explain everything that had happened, and he wasn't, it would probably sound rather childish. Unfortunately, Harry couldn't lie either. He wasn't very good at it and the book wouldn't really let him anyway. Besides lying to Near just seemed... wrong. Honest but not too honest, Harry decided. Putting pen to parchment he began to write.
Near,
I apologize for not writing to you sooner but I honestly haven't had the opportunity. It shouldn't be a problem anymore though, I saw an opportunity to spend the rest of the summer in the wizarding world and I took it. It was mostly necessary because Hedwig has been ill and I needed to get her checked over, she is doing much better now though, the animal healers said she should be completely better shortly.
Crouched comfortably in his desk chair, L Lawliet popped a chocolate-covered cherry into his mouth as he stared wide-eyed at the file in his hands. Beside his plate of chocolates sat several sheets of parchment covered in Owl's now familiar and very distinctive messy scrawl.
It was a pleasant challenge, hunting down an unknown individual without the use of technology. True, it took longer but there was something rewarding about sifting through potential evidence by hand.
And it had finally paid off.
Though she had proven to be impossible to track, every time Owl's snowy owl Hedwig left Wammy's House she would fly in a vaguely northeasterly direction. Coupled with the fact that Owl lived approximately eighty or so, give or take a few, kilometers away it narrowed down the cities that he could live in considerably.
The, obviously true, suspicion that Owl was being abused by his relatives ruled out the idea of a private primary school, so they needed to check the public primary school records.
Owl lived with his Aunt, Uncle, and cousin so they were looking for an orphan.
An eleven year old male orphan, living eightyish kilometers away (He was ninety-two percent certain that Owl lived in Surrey but was unwilling to rule out other possibilities entirely.), who had attended the same school as his cousin, was intelligent (Though he was hiding it, most likely his grades had been high and then abruptly dropped shortly after he started school. L was certain his school records would reflect it.), and had some of the worst handwriting L had ever seen.
Digging through the personal files that each school compiled for each of their students narrowed the list of potential 'Owls' down to about two dozen students. Some could be eliminated quickly, they were accounted for and were attending local schools. Others, however, ticked several of the relevant boxes and had to have their records tracked to various boarding schools around the country after leaving primary.
Only one matched them all.
There was only one student that was entirely unaccounted for, though the dreadful handwriting sample that was in the file was the clincher. It was a nearly perfect match.
Fishing out the strip of pictures, one taken every year he had attended school and kept for identification purposes, that came with the file L studied the green eyed boy carefully. He was very pale and tiny for his age and had a ridiculous coif of messy black hair. Delicate bones did not have enough flesh on them giving the boy a slightly pinched expression. His eyes though were his most distinctive feature. The dazzling green of them was hidden slightly by oversized circular glasses but they could not entirely obscure the gleam of intelligence shining from them, or the slight 'I'm laughing at you, not with you.' sparkle.
Glancing back at the information page L took in the boy's name and address.
" Hello, Harry James Potter." He mumbled to himself with a tiny smile before inhaling another cherry.
AN: I had thought that I had posted this weeks ago but apparently I didn't, sorry. I had meant for this chapter to contain second year, but there was to much important ground to cover, apart from the summer before fifth year I have always thought of the summer before second to be the most important. I have also found that I am incapable of moving on to write future chapters out of order. I simply have to complete a thought or I can't move on. So hopefully now I can churn out the second year without this nagging at me. I had actually written this chapter to be much different and far longer but had to rewrite it entirely because it forced into motion things that I wasn't ready for yet. It included Harry being beaten so badly that he ended up in the hospital and Dumbledore leaving Harry at the Leaky Cauldron for reasons that got explained. I didn't want that to happen so it didn't. Also, Wammy was the one who found Harry, but he wanted to throw his lawyers at the Dursleys for guardianship and I couldn't have that happen either. Maybe when this is all written I will add a chapter of all the discarded ideas I've had, there is a lot and I kept them.
P.S. I don't own Harry Potter or Death Note