Disclaimer: I hold no rights to anything of the 'Harry Potter' universe. I make no money writing about it… I just enjoy playing with the characters.

A/N: I must apologize for the delay in getting this posted. I could bore you all with the minutia in my life, but that would accomplish nothing. With my health issues, and my obscene work schedule, the updates to this story will unfortunately be few and far between. I have about 30 chapters planned out for this fic, but it's just finding the time to write it all down that's the problem. I also apologize for not responding to all of the wonderful reviews you've been writing. Just know that I read them all, and I appreciate every one of them. I also found a beta reader for this fic, but I sent the chapter out a week ago, and have received nothing back, so this chapter is un-beta'ed, and I'll probably be asking one of the others who have offered to read for me to beta. Well, enough of my babbling, on with the show! (Word Count: 4319)

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Chapter 6: The First Chapter

Saturday, June 4th, 1988 9:47 AM

Harry had been staring at the first page of the book in his hands for almost a half-minute. His finger traced along the signature in the book and whispered breathily, "My father wrote this!"

"He did?" asked Jaana as she looked over his shoulder at, what was to her, a blank page, "How do you know?"

"He signed it. He must have had the same name as me because it says right here…'Written by Harry James Potter.'"

"Harry, your father's name was James Michael Potter… surely you know that!"

Harry tore his gaze away from the book for the first time since it was handed to him. He looked into Jaana's eyes and hopefully asked, "What was my mother's name?"

Jaana's own eyes narrowed as she asked, "You're serious, aren't you? You don't know your own parents' names?"

"My relatives never talked about them, and I'd get in trouble if I ever asked anything about them," Harry hesitantly answered with downcast eyes, "All I know is that my father was an unemployed 'lay-about,' and my mother was… well… I'm not allowed to say that word. They only referred to my parents as 'Them…' among other things… they never told me their names."

"Well," began Jaana with an aggravated edge to her voice, "Your mother's name was Lily. She worked for St. Mungo's Hospital as a Potions researcher, and your father was certainly no bum! He had inherited the Silver Arrow Broomstick Company and headed up the company straight out of Hogwarts… he was the one who developed the Glidestream pattern for the straws in every modern broomstick… the man was brilliant at transfigurations!"

"Hogwarts?" asked Harry, "and broomsticks?"

"That's the school where witches and wizards go to learn about magic. You'll be going there after you turn eleven, and flying broomsticks are the main mode of transportation in the wizarding community. My mum owns a Silver Arrow, in fact. Too bad the company closed down after your father… uh… well…"

Harry just nodded as his eyes returned to the book. He thought to himself that maybe it was his grandfather who had written the book as he flipped the page to begin reading the handwritten entries, but Jaana interrupted him before he even got started.

"Do you mind if I take a closer look at that book?" she asked as she drew her wand again.

Harry couldn't help but to smile. It was so rare that anyone was actually polite to him that he handed her the book without question.

Jaana took the book and began casting every revealing spell that she knew, but nothing she tried seemed to work. The pages remained blank to her. She could detect the unmistakable presence of very strong magic, but that was about it.

"Where exactly did you find this book?" Jaana asked absently as she studied it.

Figuring that he was already in trouble with his uncle, Harry related the story of the excursion from his cupboard to his cousin's second bedroom. During his story, Jaana interrupted him repeatedly to ask questions, and with each answer he gave she seemed to get more and more agitated. By the time he got to the part where his uncle began swinging the cricket bat, Jaana was angrily pacing the floor beside his bed, intently tapping her wand against her palm.

"Wait a mo," she said as she walked to a nearby dresser and pulled out a worn sweatshirt from a drawer. Harry recognized the shirt as the one he was wearing the previous night.

"I cleaned the blood from it… I was going to throw it out, but I didn't want to toss away everything you owned. Now I know why I couldn't find any of your stuff in that wretched house… I never thought to look in the storage cupboard!"

Jaana held the shirt up to Harry. Burned into the front of the shirt was a circle with the same weird characters he saw glowing on the floor of his cousin's room. She turned the sweatshirt inside-out so that the runes wouldn't appear reversed and asked "Did this happen when you laid down on the circle?"

Harry remembered the searing pain from the circle as he threw himself on top of it and instinctively felt his chest with his hand. Only then did he realize that the bandages that were wrapped around his chest the day before were gone, along with the terrible pain of his cracked ribs. As he gingerly pressed his fingers alongside his chest, he asked, "My chest doesn't hurt anymore! How did I get better so quickly? Did you use magic?"

Jaana sat back down on the bed next to Harry. She laid her hand softly on the side of his head and said, "Your uncle hurt you very badly. I won't go into details, but if I hadn't found you when I did, you would have died. As soon as I found you, I messaged the healers at St. Mungo's, and then did what I could to help you until they got there. You were in a magically induced sleep for a few weeks while they were healing you, but when they ended the spell to keep you asleep, you didn't wake up… until today. Right now, its June 4th… you've been asleep for over three months... they were afraid that you'd never wake up."

Jaana didn't mention to Harry how she had took him from the hospital when she heard that, by order of the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, he was going to be sent to a muggle hospital as soon as he was awake, and then back to his wretched relatives. She tried to explain Harry's situation to the Ministry officials that were sent to St. Mungo's, and they seemed genuinely sympathetic with her, but they had orders directly from the Dumbledore himself that the boy be returned to his relatives, and the Supreme Mugwump gets what the Supreme Mugwump wants.

"Over my dead body…" Jaana muttered to herself as she remembered the conversation, not realizing that she said it out loud while she studied the runes burned into Harry's shirt.

Harry raised his eyes from the book and asked, "What was that?"

"Oh, nothing… just looking at these runes… runes weren't my best subject at Hogwarts," Jaana said quickly, then changed the subject and asked him, "you must be hungry… Are you in the mood for anything special?"

This question seemed to catch Harry off guard, because he was just looking at Jaana with a stumped expression. After a moment, he said, "I don't want you to go through any trouble just for me… whatever you're having, I suppose."

"Come now, there must be something you fancy?"

Harry thought for a few moments, then opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it. After about half a minute of indecisiveness, Jaana sighed and said, "Well, I guess you shouldn't have anything too heavy, since you just woke up… how about grilled cheese sandwiches and some tomato soup?"

When Harry smiled and nodded, Jaana gave him a wink and said, "Fine, then…" She turned her head and called out to the room, "Glyph?"

A few moments later, Harry was startled by a slight 'pop' that came from right beside the bed. He quickly turned his head and found himself face to face with a small, strange creature with greenish-gray skin, long, thin ears, and a very bulbous, protuberant nose that hung over it's wide and elongated mouth. Harry started and instinctively drew away from the small being and pulled the sheets that were covering him up so that half his face was hidden, with just his wide eyes staring at the small being.

The creature stepped towards the bed, and while placing her long-fingered hands on top of the mattress, she leaned towards Harry and said in a slow, squeaky voice, "So the young master Potter is awake now…" The creature then turned to Jaana and said, "What can Glyph be doing for the mistress?"

"What… I mean, who is that?" said Harry from behind the sheet in a surprised, shaky voice.

"I keep forgetting how little you know about the magical world," said Jaana apologetically, "This is Glyph, one of Healer Cooley's house elves." Jaana turned to the elf and said, "Could you please get Harry here some grilled cheese sandwiches and a bowl of tomato soup?"

"It will only take Glyph a few minutes, Mistress," said the elf as she gave a polite bow, and then vanished with another 'pop.'

"House elves are servants to some of the well-to-do wizard families. This house belonged to Ray's grandparents, and they left it to him when they died about twenty years ago. The elf just came with the house. Ray has never lived here, though… he has a flat in London close to the hospital. He's letting us stay here for the time being, at least until you're better and we can find a more secure place to keep you."

"You're hiding me from my relatives?" asked Harry worriedly, "I really won't have to go back there?"

"Harry, your uncle nearly killed you. There are some people who think that you need to live with those wretched people, but I can't, in good conscience, allow that to happen, and Ray agrees with me, which is why we're here now. Nobody really knows about this place. He's taking a big risk sheltering us like this, so we'll have to find another place when you're better." Jaana then gave Harry a critical look and asked, "Unless you want to go back there… I won't hold you against your will, of course… and I can't guarantee that I'd leave you there without performing an 'extreme attitude adjustment' on that… that… uncle of yours. I just want you to know that you can stay with me as long as you like. I won't force you…"

The only answer she got was the only answer she needed… the largest grin she had yet seen on the boy. At that moment, Glyph popped back into the room carrying a large silver tray with a half dozen sandwiches piled on top of it, along with a very large bowl that looked as if it held a gallon of soup. There was also a large silver goblet filled with some pale orange liquid that turned out to be sweetened pumpkin juice. Glyph summoned a bed table and placed the tray above Harry's lap before wordlessly popping away again.

"How does she do that?" asked Harry of the house elf's appearance and disappearance.

As Harry ate, Jaana explained about Apparition, and after describing the feeling one gets while Apparating, Harry excitedly said that he felt that same sensation while in his cousin's bedroom.

"That's what's known as 'accidental' magic," explained Jaana, "It usually manifests in young magicals during times of unusual stress. That explains how you got into the locked school that night. Has any other odd things happened to you… things that nobody could explain?"

Harry went through a short list of the strange occurrences that seemed to happen when he was either scared or pressured. He never mentioned the punishments that he always received for things he thought he hadn't done at all. Jaana nodded thoughtfully and explained that accidental magic is just an involuntary defense mechanism ingrained in all magical children and was usually nothing to worry about.

"I know you've been asleep for a long time, but you still need to rest… you can read all about yourself later," said Jaana as she placed the book back onto the desk, "Once you're finished eating, just call for Glyph to take the tray away and then try to get some sleep. I'll check on you in a few hours."

Jaana walked to the door, only pausing a moment to look back fondly at the small, skinny boy happily munching away on half of a sandwich before closing the door.

"Glyph?"

With a slight 'pop,' the small elf appeared, "What can Glyph be doing for the mistress?"

Jaana withdrew her wand from her pocket while saying, "Please keep an eye on the boy while I'm out. I'm going to see my aunt Arabella. I have more than a few questions for her about what she knew of Harry's situation, and then I'm going to pay a certain obese muggle a little visit."

"Certainly, Mistress."

Meanwhile in the room, Harry had already pushed the tray aside and was trying to stand up, but since he was lying there idle for so long, he was having a rather difficult time trying to get his legs to work. He had almost fallen the moment his feet touched the floor because his concentration was fixed solely on the book lying upon the desk. He just couldn't wait to read what this previously unheard of world knew of him.

Harry slid down from the bed and started crawling across the floor towards the desk, but in his single-minded determination to get to the book, he failed to notice the appearance of Glyph as she came through the door. He was halfway across the room when he let out a startled yelp as he rose from off of the floor and was flipped over while being floated back to the bed.

"Young master is being bad!" scolded Glyph as she guided him with an extended finger, "Young master is being sick and must stay in bed!"

"I just wanted my book," complained Harry.

"Master is still not finished with his food. When master is done with his food, Glyph will get the master's book for him, but master must be staying in bed!"

Harry reluctantly moved the bed table back over his lap and picked up another sandwich. He sighed in resignation as he took a bite, but noticed the little creature still there, standing by his bed as she silently watched him eating with her big, hazel-coloured eyes.

"Would you like one?" asked Harry, thinking that she was staring at him because she was hungry.

The elf seemed to gawk at him for a moment before shaking off the shock and replying, "Oh, no… Glyph will be eating later in Glyph's cupboard after the young master is seen after."

Harry looked sympathetically at the elf and offhandedly said, "Oh, so they make you sleep in a cupboard, too? Is that where I'll sleep when I'm better?"

Again, the elf stared dumbly at him for a few moments and Harry was beginning to think himself quite stupid. Glyph spoke with what Harry guessed to be a confused expression, "Master, cupboards is for storing things and for house elves… the young master will be sleeping here for as long as master likes."

Harry Nodded as he looked around the room once more… his room! He took a few more bites of a sandwich, but was becoming slightly unnerved at the constant stare of the elf standing next to his bed. After a while, Harry was feeling quite self-conscious.

"I don't mean to be rude or anything, but why are you staring at me? Am I doing something wrong?"

"Oh, no, young master! The mistress asked Glyph to be watching the young master, so Glyph is watching the young master."

"Oh," replied Harry. After a few more minutes of the elf's intense, silent stare, Harry asked the elf, "So, what do you do here, besides making soup and sandwiches… which are delicious, by the way."

The elf bared her sharp, pointy teeth in a smile, which momentarily alarmed Harry until she said in her squeaky voice while bouncing on the balls of her flat, elongated feet, "Glyph is pleased that the young master is enjoying Glyph's cooking! As to what Glyph does, Glyph does what every house elf does."

"I'm sorry, but I've never seen a house elf before," said Harry, "You're the first one I've ever seen… or even heard of." He was about to ask if she was a pet of the owner, but decided that it would be terribly rude if she wasn't a pet.

Glyph appeared to look shocked at Harry's statement, but he wasn't quite sure with being so unused to the elf's expressions.

"Master is a wizard and has never heard of house elves?"

"I was raised by… um… muddles?" answered Harry, trying and failing to remember what Jaana had mentioned that non-magical people were called.

"Glyph has never seen a muggle," the elf said, "but Glyph does not leave the house often, either."

"You stay in here all the time?"

"Glyph does what a house elf is supposed to do," replied the elf as she took the nearly empty tray from the bed table and popped away.

Harry had just started to swing his legs off the side of the bed when Glyph popped back into the room. Harry was starting to become familiar with the elf's expressions because the look she was giving him could not be mistaken for anything but exasperation.

"The young master must not leave the bed!" scolded Glyph as she physically pushed his legs back under the covers, "Glyph told the master that Glyph would get the book for master when the food was done!"

Glyph padded over to the desk and retrieved the book for Harry, then stood off to the side while he eagerly opened the book and began reading.

'If my calculations are accurate and my memory serves me correctly, you should find this book when you went to place your father's invisibility cloak in your 'secret compartment' under the loose floorboard beneath your bed. I have sent this back through time using a spell that Hermione had invented, and it should have arrived sometime just before your return from Hogwarts after your godfather, Sirius was killed. Yes, I know all about Sirius, and the loose floorboard… I know everything that you know. As you could see on the previous page, I, or should I say you, Harry James Potter, wrote this book.'

Harry paused and read the last paragraph twice. He knew nothing of invisibility cloaks, secret compartments, and he certainly didn't know that he had a godfather, alive or not! He anxiously continued reading.

'I understand that you probably doubt that this book was truly written by you, so I devoted the entire first chapter to chronicling your life from my earliest memories… things that I am certain only you know. Hopefully, this will convince you that this book is genuine, and what I will write of the world after this point will convince you to change things for the better, for your future, left unaltered and unmanaged, will certainly turn out to be a grim place indeed.'

Harry turned the page and began reading. As each page turned, his jaw became looser and his eyes became wider. The book mentioned the time that Dudley cracked a vase in the Dursley's living room and blamed him, It told of his very first beating from Vernon and the reason for it… when he was three he had innocently taken one of the dozens of Dudley's candy canes from the Christmas tree in the living room. He remembered that instance vividly because at the time he really didn't understand that he wasn't supposed to have any. The more he read, the more he was amazed by the accuracy of what was written… until…

'Then, when I was seven, there was the time when I got violently ill from eating some discarded food from the rubbish bin at school. I had barely made it through classes, but managed to make it through my last class. I thought I could make it home, but right before I arrived at the house, I accidentally soiled myself. When I walked into the house smelling like an unflushed loo, Vernon dragged me into the back garden and washed me down with a hosepipe. When he was through, he threw me back into my cupboard still soaking wet. As you must remember, it was the middle of winter and very cold outside, and being wet and cold when I was put away, I ended up with pneumonia and almost died because it took them a week to believe I was really ill before sending me to a doctor.'

"Wait a minute," said Harry to himself, "That's not what happened! I never made it home… I got sick while I was still in school! And he never mentioned the beating he got over the hidden toast!"

Harry read back over the previous pages. Everything else was accurate down to the letter… his loathing of being left with that odd old Mrs. Figg and her cats, the horrendous visits from his aunt Marge, the torment and ridicule in school… everything! While concerned over the slight discrepancy, he continued reading. It was the future that intrigued him most.

The book told of his future life in the Dursley household, his continued loneliness and abuse, and his miserable school life. It told of his first introduction to the wizarding world by a half-giant named Rubeus Hagrid and his first trip to Diagon Alley where he got his wand, his owl, and first learned of his vault full of gold at the wizarding bank, Gringotts. The book went on to describe his adventurous early years at Hogwarts, concentrating mostly on his two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger.

'Hmmm…' thought Harry, 'She must be the Hermione that he… err, I mean I, said created the time travel spell. It's odd that I would have a friend that's a girl…'

Harry made it to the point in the chapter where he was just starting his fourth year of Hogwarts when he read something that had surprised him. His supposed 'best friend' accused him of somehow entering his own name into a tournament while leaving Ron out of the plan. Why would his best friend, one of his two only friends, think that he would do something like that behind his back just to make himself more rich and famous? The same sort of thing happened when they discovered that his pet rat, Scabbers, was really the man that betrayed his parents' whereabouts in his animagus form.

That didn't sound like a very good 'best friend' to Harry. In fact, this 'Ron' sounded to be a bit on the thick-headed side. He glanced back through the chapter and noticed other instances where his 'best friend' acted a bit like a prat. When he read that his other friend, Hermione, had believed him about the tournament right from the start, he wondered why his older self considered Ron the closer of the two.

His older self called Hermione 'Kind, pretty, and very, very intelligent,' and led him to believe that her knowledge and insights were virtually indispensable to him. There were many times in his life where he wished he had a bright friend to help him with his schoolwork… anyone to talk to about anything, and this 'Hermione' seemed to be just the type of friend he so desperately needed. He wanted to meet this 'Hermione.' Maybe they could become friends before this magic school even started!

'Wow! A real friend… and a pretty girl, no less…' Harry thought to himself excitedly, 'How great would that be?'

Harry was roused from his daydreaming from a stern but kind voice, "You're still awake?"

Jaana was standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips, trying to give him a scolding look but was failing dismally. She couldn't help but to be happy that he was finally awake after all those months. She drew her wand and magically lifted the book from his hands.

"Rest now, read later," said Jaana as she placed the book back on the desk. She walked to his bed and placed an open vial of sky blue liquid in his hand, "Drink this, it will help you to sleep."

Harry dutifully gulped down the liquid and handed the empty vial back to Jaana while giving her an innocent smile. He had every intention of waiting until she left the room so that he could retrieve the irresistibly interesting book, but before he knew it, his eyes had glazed over and his lids became so heavy that he couldn't keep them from closing. A startlingly short moment later, he was fast asleep.

Jaana smiled at the sleeping boy, but then her eyes drifted over to the strange book and the smile faded from her lips. There was something about that book that worried her, but there were very few wizards that she could think of that could possibly break the privacy enchantment on it. She knew that it was wrong to even think of bypassing a privacy charm that was probably put there for a good reason, but she was incredibly curious… and only nineteen… and being a teenager herself, she let her curiosity get the better of her and picked up the book.

The most obvious choice was the headmaster of Hogwarts, but with what she had recently learned of his involvement in placing the 'Hero of the Wizarding World' in that horribly abusive household, and the fact that most of the wizarding law enforcement was currently looking for the boy, gave her more than enough reason to find someone more discreet to look at the book. After a few moments thought, her smile returned. If anyone could determine the protections on the book, it would be her former Head of House, who incidentally owed her more than a few favors. If she asked, she was sure he would keep the subject of their discussion quiet. With a last look at Harry, she stepped from the room, closed the door, and disappeared from the house with a quiet crack.