Canon Harry (Epilogue Age) falls into the mind of a two-year-old Harry just before he's taken from the Dursleys by...Lucius Malfoy?!
Basically, one of those "Harry is raised by the Dark Side" fics with...well, a twist. This is only a rough draft of a beginning, mind you, if I continue this. And I nev~er dooooooo~ But if anyone is interested in the concept then by GOD take it and RUN far far away.
Harry's eyes nearly crossed when he woke up to see one of the plywood walls of the cupboard under the stairs in front of him.
First, that was probably because his face was right against the wall. Second was he didn't have any glasses on.
Third was he hadn't been in this cupboard – nor been able to fit inside it – in a large number of years.
Sweet Merlin and all of King Arthur's court, what was he doing at 4 Privet Drive?
When he pushed away from the wall, he found his body disgustingly uncooperative. Had he been drugged? Was he hallucinating right now? Had all the things he always feared happening to his beloved family...happened?
When he did manage to get up, he tripped. Over his own trousers.
Muttering oaths in what he found to be a curiously high voice, Harry pulled himself up from the dirty floor and laboriously folded up his baggy clothing so that he could actually move without falling flat on his face.
He stopped, now, to listen, as he swore he'd just heard a familiar voice. Harry searched his mind for whose, but decided it was probably someone friendly to him, perhaps on a suicidal rescue mission (Wizards seemed to love those) so he bellowed to his would-be rescuers.
"'M in here! It's me, Hawwy!"
And stopped before he could bellow anymore. The HELL was wrong with his voice?!
The door was broken down.
And he found himself staring into the blurry but oh so recognizable face of Lucius Malfoy, who looked a lot better than the last time Harry had seen him – namely, dead and years older.
Harry screamed bloody murder.