A/N: Sorry this has taken forever…really that's all I can say. Also, on the red eyes thing – yes I am aware that newborn vampires typically have red eyes however you will find that there is a perfectly good reason why Cedric does which I won't reveal now because it is one of my plot twist thingies. I have decided that I won't go through Cedric's life with the Cullen's before Harry arrives because I think it would work better as memories. So rest assured you will find out exactly what happens in this time period only not yet. We will begin with Harry.
It was raining. Hard. Actually, to say it was raining would be an understatement. Harry was fairly sure that even living in England, the proverbial birth-place of rain, he had never seen this much in one place at once. Staring rather morosely out the window of a small bus, he decided it suited him perfectly.
I've always liked the rain.
The bus lurched violently as it hit a pothole and his glasses fell off, cracking slightly as they hit the floor.
Just my luck he sighed as he stooped down to pick them up. Never mind that he was a wizard and could fix them instantly, that wasn't the issue here. Instead, it was that breaking one's glasses was never a good omen. Checking briefly to make sure no one was looking in his direction he muttered a quick 'reparo' and watched as the spider cracks seemed to melt away.
I wish I could do that he thought wistfully, turning his attention back to the rain.
Simply melt away. Just like the witch from the Wizard of Oz. He smiled briefly as he recalled his favourite story. It was the only book he had owned while living at Privet Drive. It had originally been a gift for Dudley from one aunt or another but Petunia had thrown it in the trash saying that it was 'magical nonsense'. He had rescued it and read it cover to cover dozens of times. How he had wished he could be transported into another world, like Dorothy, where everything was better. Where people who were different had friends and wishes were granted, where evil was vanquished. And then it had happened. One letter (ok maybe a few million, but essentially one) and his entire life had been turned upside down. He'd felt as if all his hopes and dreams were coming true. And they had, for awhile. But all good things, as Harry had learned far too often, came to an end. It had first begun, he supposed, when Petunia had discovered the book and tried to burn it. He had begged and pleaded with her but to no avail. At that time he hadn't realized it, but with hindsight he could see that it marked the beginning of his disillusionment with Wizard-kind.
The bus lurched to a halt and he was jolted out of his reverie as the person seated behind him dragged her bag from the shelf above, managing to whack him in the head as she did so. The woman swore and promptly dropped the bag as she hurried to his side.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry." She panicked as Harry groaned and tentatively rubbed his temple.
"S'ok" he muttered as he repositioned his glasses and focused his eyes upon her. As his gaze sharpened he had to fight the urge to drop his jaw in shock. She was quite possibly the strangest looking lady he'd ever met. Not that she was terrible-looking or ugly or anything. Actually in his opinion she was actually quite pretty with her oval face and her soft brown eyes. What struck him in the first place was not her hair, which while a nice shade of brown, frizzed out from her head like some kind of mane, but her clothing. She was wearing the most bizarre ensemble. Her hat, which he supposed was indeed a hat although he wasn't quite sure, seemed to have been the product of some serious fabric explosion. There were so many different patterns and styles it actually hurt to look at it. Not to mention the fact that it had more arms than an octopus. Her bright pink overcoat clashed horribly not only with the hat-thing but with the fluoro-green, pink polka-dotted dress she had on underneath.
"Really I'm terribly sorry, I'm just so God-damned clumsy and…are you sure you're alright?" she inquired as he winced in pain.
"Yeah," he grimaced slightly, "I've had worse."
"Well ok," the woman hesitated, "at least let me help you out of the bus."
He nodded and grabbed his knapsack off the seat beside him. The woman steadied him as he rose shakily (his balance was still offset) and proceeded to practically carry him off of the bus.
"Uh thanks…" he muttered shyly, rubbing the back of his head nervously.
The woman smiled at him, "I'm Poppy by the way, Poppy Eastings". She reached out a hand for him to shake and looked at him expectantly.
"Oh, I'm Harry P- umm, Parson." He shook her hand.
"Oh you poor dear," she said worriedly, "you had trouble remembering your last name…you may have a concussion."
"Oh no," he demurred, "I'm just…"
"Where are you staying?" she demanded.
"Oh you know, ummm," he waved his hand ambiguously, "I was just going to check into a hotel."
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, "how old are you?"
"Uh, eighteen?" he tried.
"Nice try," she scoffed, "but you don't look more than fourteen. How old are you really?"
"Sixteen," he sighed and resigned himself to the inevitable. She didn't disappoint.
"Well that's settled then, you're coming home with me."
"But…" he began only to be silenced by a raised finger.
"Uh uh," she shook her finger, "now I won't ask you why you're on your own, but you will come home with me tonight at least – you're a minor and you could have a concussion. Besides, no hotel would let you check in since you look fourteen."
Harry bit his lip. He couldn't very well tell her that he'd actually been planning to camp under a tree or something.
"Alright," he sighed, "but only for tonight and," he paused briefly, "thank you."
"Not at all," she waved it aside, acting as if she hadn't just, for all intents and purposes, forced him into staying with her, "it's the least I could do after practically concussing you with my bag. Now come on, I think I parked my car somewhere over here…"
He smiled briefly as he followed her. As pushy and strange as she was, he kind of liked her. She reminded him somewhat of what he supposed Hermione would grow up to become personality wise, if not clothing wise. The thought was comforting. He could pretend she was here, even though there were thousands of miles between them, not to mention several years.
I wonder if they still miss me. He supposed they had moved on with their lives. It had been two years after all. Two long years, in which he had not written a single letter for fear of it being intercepted, and Dumbledore, or worse, Voldemort, figuring out where he was.
Still he thought, frustrated, somehow one of them manages to find me wherever I go. He was forever running from place to place, never staying more than a few months in any one town or city. But he was sick of running. He just wanted to live a normal life amongst normal people, a life where he wasn't the great 'Harry Potter' the 'Chosen One'. But since when had any of his wishes come true? When he had first come across Forks on a tourist's map he'd just known it was perfect. It was small, secluded, and it rained over eighty percent of the time. Who would look for him there? And in any case, with all that rain, maybe his one wish would be granted. Maybe he could simply melt away, cease to exist, as Harry Potter any way. He could forge a new identity, a new life amongst a town whose greatest asset was that there were no wizards or witches within a hundred miles of it.
"Now Harry dear," Poppy began as she pulled out of the parking lot, "I know I promised I wouldn't ask any personal questions but I simply can't help myself. Just the thought of a young man like you out on the streets alone…I just have to ask – and don't feel like you have to answer – but where are your parents?"
Harry opened his mouth and then hesitated briefly, unsure how much of the truth he should reveal. He guessed there were plenty of orphans in the world; it was probably safe to be somewhat honest about his parents and at least he wouldn't have to remember a cover story later.
"My parents," he said slowly, "were…murdered when I was just a baby.
"Oh my," Poppy gasped and whipped her head around so fast that Harry had to duck as her hat's 'arms' swung his way "you poor thing. Who took care of you?"
"My aunt," he said hesitantly, "but she recently…had…health issues. Yeah, and me and my cousin were too much for her so she was going to put me into the foster system but I didn't want to go so I left."
"Oh dear," she clucked her tongue in disapproval, "and how long ago did you run away?"
He supposed he may as well continue with the truth, as least if he told her how long she may realize that he had been doing ok on his own.
"Two years ago."
Poppy gasped, "two years!!!?? And your aunt didn't file a missing person's report or anything?"
"She may have," he hedged "but I'm good at hiding".
"I'll bet," she mused and drove the rest of the way in silence, every now and then stealing a look at Harry who appeared to be calmly observing the scenery. Inside however, his mind was in turmoil. Oh bugger. What have I done? She's probably going to call the police on me, and then they'll come find me. He took a deep breath. Calm down Harry, you're a wizard for Merlin's sake. I'll just leave during the night or something; I won't let them get me.
"We're here," Poppy announced somewhat cheerfully.
Harry looked out the window to find a surprisingly normal house given Poppy's bizarre appearance. It was a small, quaint looking cottage and Harry found he liked it on sight. There was just something so serene and peaceful about it.
"You have a lovely house," he remarked quietly.
"Thank you," Poppy smiled, "my family built it. Of course, I had nothing to do with the decorating, I'm colour-blind you know."
Harry stifled a laugh. Really, he thought, I could never have guessed.
A he stepped out of the car he clutched his knapsack to his chest.
"Come on," Poppy began to unlock the door, "I want you to meet Gerald."
As Harry followed her he questioned, "Is Gerald your husband?"
Poppy laughed, "oh goodness no, he's my cat, and even he's more than enough husband for me." Seeing Harry's confused face she explained, "I did have a husband once, but he's long gone now and since then I haven't needed anyone but Gerald here." She patted the gingery cat that had just leapt onto the kitchen counter and rubbed itself against her hand.
"I've just got to go check on something; I'll be back in a moment dear."
As Poppy left, Gerald made his way over to Harry. Warily, the cat sniffed him and then butted his nose against his leg. Harry bent down slightly to pet him and smiled as the cat began to purr loudly.
"I think he likes you," Poppy remarked as she re-entered the kitchen. Harry smiled at her, "he's very affectionate."
"Better than most people, cats are." Poppy picked Gerald up and hugged him to her chest. "They let you know exactly what's on their mind and they never lie to you. Now, I've set up the guest bedroom for you so grab your bag and follow me."
Obediently Harry picked his knapsack up and tailed her to the room.
"This is it," she said, "and if there's anything you need just let me know."
"Thank you," Harry said sincerely, "you really didn't need to do this for me."
"Nonsense," she said, "you did us a favour by coming here. We don't usually have company and it's nice once in awhile. Now I'm going to make dinner so you just get yourself settled in, okay?"
He nodded and settled himself on the bed with his knapsack on his lap. Gently he undid the ties and brought out a small framed photograph. Within in the frame three children laughed their arms around one another. We were all so happy he thought wistfully, and so naive.