A big, big thank you to my beta Dasiy:Hugs: For reference, I'm on holiday and sick as a dog, which is why I'm writing a lot. I should note, be warned of DH spoilers!

"Any alliance whose purpose is not the intention to wage war is senseless and useless"
- Adolf Hitler, "Mein Kampf"

Renegade Master

Welcome to the Jungle Baby…

Chapter 2:

……………………………….

1992

"Hello, Harry."

Blonde curly hair, perfect teeth and blue eyes that almost seemed to sparkle with hidden knowledge; it made Xander sick to his core. However, he was here on a mission to make an enemy a friend.

"Professor Lockhart," Xander replied in acknowledgement.

The man flashed a dazzling smile. "Please, from one friend to another, call me Gilderoy." He smiled again.

"Thank you, Gilderoy," responded Xander.

'I am not a suck-up… I am not a suck-up…' Xander thought to himself, before continuing "I know you're a fake."

The smile fell, and Lockhart's wand hand twitched. "Oh."

……………………………….

1991

Most people who lived in the United Kingdom believed, as most people did around the world, that there was only one Prime Minister, and most people, legally, would be correct. However,this was, in fact, incorrect. In the United Kingdom, there were two. The process was exactly the same as for the real Prime Minister: the PM was voted in and retained office for a period of ten years. The most recent one was a plump man called Cornelius Fudge who had done quite well for himself.

The people had voted him into office after his capture of Sirius Black; he didn't capture him personally, but he had orchestrated it, captured and freed many of those serving the Dark Lord. Lucius Malfoy had been one of those under the imperious curse, and he had donated to Fudge's cause quite heavily after that.

Life, Cornelius reflected, was rather good.

Of course, that was bound to come crashing down any time soon; the Universe didn't seem to like any one person having a good life.

Cornelius had been writing a form on the most recent debacle concerning Pewter's, when there came a slight rapping at his door.

"Come," he said, looking up from his desk.

The door opened and a very flustered-looking Kingsley Shacklebolt entered; his hat was askew and his clothes slightly rumpled. He looked as though he'd been in a bar fight. Cornelius raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Kingsley, what happened?"

The man had a lopsided grin on his dark and handsome face. "There was an altercation of sorts."

"Explain." The Minster sat back and waited.

"We had a case of under-age magic, but this was not performed with a wand."

"Accidental magic," the Minister concluded.

"Yes sir, when we arrived, we quickly confirmed this to be the case. A young boy was involved, in a small house in Surrey."

'Surrey… why did that name sound so familiar?' the Minister thought to himself.

"It's the place where Harry Potter was sent to live when he was a young baby."

'Oh crap…' the Minister thought to himself darkly.

"Harry Potter was hurt during the accident," he continued, "but I think a lot of the damage was done before hand."

"Beforehand?"

"Yes sir," Kingsley nodded sadly. "The boy has been abused; the paramedics who examined him said he was malnourished and he had bruises on him."

"Young boys like to fight, Kingsley," the Minister said gently.

"Yes sir, that's what we thought until we met Vernon Dursley, Harry's uncle. The man apparently hates magic." Kingsley rubbed his jaw. "He even had a hunting rifle."

"Weapons are illegal."

"Yes sir, but Dursley apparently has a licence to go hunting," Kingsley explained.

Cornelius chuckled at the thought of a mere Muggle trying to take on a fully-trained Auror; still it was disturbing that Dursley had actually pulled a weapon out on one of his best trained. "Dursley caught us by surprise and slugged Dawlish," he went on.

Cornelius winced. "Has the situation been contained?"

Kingsley nodded wryly. "Apparently gossip travels fast around Privet Drive; we had to find every resident on the street and perform memory charms on all of them. We put it down to a gas leak."

Fudge chuckled; wizards and muggles weren't all that different. "The boy, where is he now?"

"The Leaky Cauldron…"

……………………………….

"'Ello, Tom."

The barman was old and bald, resembling a gummy walnut, and went by the name of Tom. The man looked up from the drink he had been nursing and smiled.

"'Ello Hagrid."

"How is 'e Tom?"

"Better than he was when he arrived."

The giant of a man looked at the barkeep quizzically.

"He weren't looking too good," Tom, continued, "all thin-like, a bit singed but nothin' the nurse couldn't solve."

"Thin?"

Tom nodded. "I think, between me and you they were starving 'im."

"Dursley!"

Hagrid had suddenly grown larger, if that were possible. Hagrid was angry and Tom was glad that he was not on the receiving end of Hagrid's temper. Hagrid whipped out his umbrella but, remembering where he was, quickly folded it up and tucked it back under his arm.

"Sorry, got a bit angry," said Hagrid, looking embarrassed.

Tom chuckled. "Tis alright, I felt the same when he arrived in sheets and rags for clothes; kid looked like a house elf."

"I'll talk with 'im, see if e's alrigh'."

"Be mindful, Hagrid, the kid barely says more than two words at a time," Tom said sadly.

The bearded man nodded and stomped towards the handsome wooden staircase that Tom so lovingly took care of. Tom was certain that he heard, 'Dursley' and then 'dirty great Muggle' as Hagrid trailed up the staircase.

Hagrid knocked on the door, and waited a moment before slowly entering. He stopped short when he saw, true to Tom's words, a painfully thin boy sitting cross-legged on one of the large beds. His eyes were closed, his hair was ragged and his face was relaxed.

The most telling thing about Harry's life at Surrey was his thinness, his arms barely had any meat on them and the clothes that he wore looked like Dudley's knockoffs, they hung off him; his jumper looked large enough to have been a dress. Hagrid was furious and made a mental note to pay the Dursleys a visit.

The boy's eyes fluttered open and zeroed in on him as though he knew exactly where to look; they were crystal-clear, piercing almost, and bright green, just like his mother's. For second, Hagrid thought the child was staring at his umbrella, but the next moment they were back on him again.

"Hello, Harry," Hagrid said softly, not wanting to scare the boy any further; he had been through enough already.

It was the strangest thing, the crystal clarity was gone for only the briefest of seconds, but it felt to Hagrid like an eternity. One moment the boy seemed so sure of his place in the world and the next he didn't even respond to his own name. It was as if he didn't know who he was.

Then, just as quickly as it came, it was gone; the boy whispered, 'Hello,' breaking the spell.

Hagrid smiled.

"You've been through a lot today," Hagrid said.

The boy nodded slowly. Hagrid pulled out his umbrella from under his arm and conjured up a chair to sit on. At this, the boy arched an eyebrow. "Most wizards use wands, see, but mine got broken when I was little, long story, mind. See, I'm not s'posed to do magic, would y'mind not tellin' anyone?"

The boy shrugged his shoulders non-committally. "Yer a wizard too, just like me an' the others who picked you up. What happened today was a case of what we call 'accidental magic'."

The eyebrow that had settled down with the other one, rose upwards again, Tom was right, the boy didn't speak much.

"It happens when a wizard is under stress," Hagrid explained to the boy, who was looking very confused.

The boy nodded.

"Y've mostly likely received the letter from Albus Dumbledore with regards to Hogwarts?"

Another nod.

"Good', I'm 'ere to take yeh to get yer clothes, wand and other stuff yeh'll need fer school."

Hagrid paused for moment.

"Righ'. 'Ave you eaten?"

"Yes," the boy finally answered as he hopped off the bed and followed Hagrid as he turned to leave the room.

This time around, Xander noted, The Leaky Cauldron was less crowded; a few people looked his way and whispered, but otherwise there was nothing like the following Harry had gotten in the books the first day he'd stepped into Diagon Alley.

They walked out into the stone street that stretched and opened out near the top. Xander raised an eyebrow as witches and wizards of all shapes and sizes moved back and forth in every direction: some wearing strange hats with long pointy ends that gave them the aurora of the traditional sense of witches and others with owls sitting in nests hooting happily.

The first place they went to was the bank, Gringotts the Goblin owned bank. The thing that surprised Xander was how narrow the street actually was; nevertheless, the wizards had managed to cram in literally hundreds of shops. He saw the pillars of Gringotts and the not-so-happy-looking goblin standing at the entrance smiling (if it could be called that) at people passing by.

Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there

"Goblins, yeh'd be mad to try and break into it," Hagrid said. "Rumour 'as it tha' in the bottom of Gringotts there's a bleedin' dragon!"

Hagrid gave the goblin a weak smile. "Other tha' Hogwarts it's the safest place in the world fer anything yeh want to keep safe," he explained.

'So then why move the Philosopher's stone? If it was that safe?' Xander thought, but he knew otherwise.

……………………………….

Earlier that day

'Bang'

At least that's what he thought should happen. Xander Harris blinked rapidly as he looked around the room. He stared hard at the spiders, looked at the pictures drawn on the walls and tried to move, but he couldn't, he was crammed in so tight.

Xander groaned loudly, "Andrew I'm going to kill you."

It must have been the middle of the night; he couldn't tell it was so dark. He got angry, emotions boiled in his system, begging to be let out.

He was frustrated; he had a life, a good life. He wasn't Zeppo anymore, no more buttmonkey, and he was happy. But then some idiot had to go and ruin it.

Andrew, when he got his mitts on him, would be turned into a frog, damn straight. Xander scowled, he knew exactly where he was, whom he was and what he looked like even without a mirror. The Dursleys in number 4, Privet Drive, had trapped him in the under stairs cupboard.

The anger swelled in the pit of his stomach.

To read about a small boy being trapped in the closet was one thing, to actually be the small boy trapped there was something entirely different.

A spark lit inside his mind.

Suddenly it wasn't just inside his mind, it was everywhere.

The door to the closet exploded outwards and the house shook violently.

The next thing he knew he was standing outside with his stunned relatives. Dudley was cowering by his mother as the house blazed away, the top starting to smoke rapidly as the fire began making its way upstairs.

All of Harry's belongings, the few that he had, went up with it, along with all of the Dursley's belongings.

"Good thing we're insured," barked Vernon over the blaze.

A few moments after the fire engines arrived, a small group of strange looking men and women appeared from out of nowhere. Seeing this, Vernon pulled his hunting rifle, which he must have grabbed on the way out of the burning house, out from inside his dressing gown and pointed it at the odd-looking group.

The group didn't move, or even appear to react to the firearm which was now but a few inches from the nose of one, they just stood there almost mockingly, watching as a police car pulled up next to Vernon.

Overall, not a bad nights work…

The Aurors had been kind enough to take Xander away from the mess after Vernon was arrested; they performed mind-wiping charms on all the Muggles in Privet Drive and then took Harry to The Leaky Cauldron.

'Everything is as it is in the books; pure wigginess,' Xander thought to himself.

Upon arriving at The Leaky Cauldron, Xander was allocated a room and brought something to eat. He looked at himself in the mirror and scowled; a change of clothes was definitely in order, at least.

Sighing, Xander sat on the bed, closed his eyes and mind to the outside world; he needed to meditate to find out if Andrew had been smart enough to put any useful information in there.

If he hadn't there would be hell to pay!