Chosen - a Harry Potter fanfic

By Anton B. Ingibjartsson, AKA dragonwrath7

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. I am not JK Rowling.

This story was partly influenced and inspired by the fanfic In The Words Of Ginevra Molly Potter, by TheJealousOne.

THIS STORY CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS TO ALL THE HARRY POTTER BOOKS! IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THEM AND DON'T WANT THE EXPERIENCE RUINED FOR YOU, REFRAIN FROM READING FURTHER. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Chapter One: Living the Dream

This is the story of Joanne Rowling's greatest fan.

He had just finished reading the last chapter of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows when it first happened. He heard a voice. It was a woman's voice, and it was screaming. Startled, he dropped the book and looked around, but there was no one else in the room. Eventually, he decided he must simply have dozed off and had a bad dream. He had, after all, been awake all night reading. He looked at his watch and saw that it was almost nine in the morning. Not too keen on letting his foster parents know he hadn't slept, he decided to get out of bed and have some breakfast and just go to bed early tonight. He got up and looked at a photo that stood on his table. He didn't know why he kept that picture, it only pained him to look at it. The picture showed his parents, who had died in a car crash three years ago. He lived in foster care now. His foster parents weren't bad people, but they were ignorant and didn't understand him at all. They had a son who was a few years older than him and who constantly picked on him. If only he'd had some living relatives to take him in...

It was as he sat down with his adoptive family to eat breakfast that it happened again. This time it was a man's voice, but it sounded nothing like any man he had ever heard. The voice laughed hysterically, and then spoke. He had the feeling the man was speaking to him.

"And now... you will die, and the world will know I cannot be vanquished."

Green light flashed before him, and he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, everything was normal. No green light and no voice, but strangest of all, the family, who sat all around him, hadn't noticed a thing. Once again, he simply decided he must just be tired.

He sat in the living room the whole day playing video games. His foster mother asked him to stop playing and spend some time outside with his friends. Friends? He almost laughed. He didn't have any friends. The kids she was referring to were the school bullies, who liked to spend the summer picking on him. They'd even had the nerve to come over and ask for him several times. She asked him again to quit, but he ignored her and kept playing.

The bell rang. His foster mother asked him to get the door, but he didn't even look up from the screen. She sighed and went to answer the door herself. After about a minute, she returned with a strange smile on her face. He looked up, quite surprised by her expression.

"There's a pretty girl asking for you."

"What?" he said, and went a little red. This was one thing he had not expected. He stood up and went to the door.

There was a girl there alright, but not any girl he had been expecting.

"What are you doing here?" he whispered, making sure that nobody was watching or listening.

"I- I just..."

She went all red. This was why he didn't want her here. It was just his bad luck that he got stuck with this girl as his science partner. Since it was Saturday, he'd been hoping to get a break from her. He knew she had a big crush on him, and it was quite embarrassing under the best of circumstances, but he wasn't the least bit interested.

"Y-you forgot your science books at school," she finally managed to tell him.

"Oh," he said, and took the books from her. "Thanks."

There was an embarrassing silence. He was about to say goodbye and close the door, but then he saw the strange look on her face. She wasn't looking at him, rather she seemed to be looking through him. She had a sad expression on her face. This was the reason he hadn't had the heart to tell her that he wasn't interested. She was zoning out – something which seemed to happen to her all the time, ever since the accident which had killed his parents. Her parents had been in the other car...

As soon as she seemed to have recovered, he said goodbye and closed the door. He felt bad for her, he really did. If it weren't for her stupid crush on him he would gladly consider her a friend. Sure she was pretty, but she was also constantly sad, and he felt bad enough himself. If he was to have a girlfriend, he would need a cheerful one; someone who could keep his spirits up, not someone who just dragged him further down.

"Well well well," said his 'brother' from behind him. "Somebody has a girlfriend."

He sighed. And people wonder why I don't like my so-called family.

That night after dinner, he was exhausted and more than ready to call it a night. He went straight to his room without even brushing his teeth. He saw his book still lying on the bed and picked it up. As he looked at the front cover, he again heard voices. This time there were two of them, although the first sounded more like a howling dog than a person. The second voice belonged to a woman.

"Shh! You'll wake the Muggles!"

Muggles... where had he heard that before? He racked his brain, knowing this was something he should know, but he was too tired to think clearly. He put the book back in the shelf next to the other six. He owned every book in the Harry Potter series and had read most of them more than twice. His vision blurred... he barely had the strength to remain standing. He just made it to the bed before the remainder of his strength vanished and he fell onto the mattress. As his senses left him, he thought he heard someone whisper.

"Good luck, Harry."

And then he was asleep. He had a peculiar dream where he stood atop a mountain. Looking down, he saw a great castle next to a huge forest and a lake. A short distance from the castle there was a stadium of some sort, and in the castle grounds he saw a small wooden cabin. This all seemed very familiar somehow, but he wasn't sure why. He could hear crying. At first he dismissed it as another one of those voices he kept hearing and wondered how he could have dozed off now that he didn't feel the least bit tired. Then he realized he was already asleep and dreaming. So who was crying? He looked around and saw a woman looking up at the clouds.

"They're in pain! Please, help them!"

As he came closer, he got a better view of her face, but couldn't believe what he was seeing. The woman... She looked so much like...

"Mum?"

She looked at him, still crying, and then turned back to the skies. Yes, it was definitely his mother. After a few seconds of teary silence, she repeated her words.

"They're in pain. Please, help them."

There was thunder in the air. He looked up, trying to see what she was staring at. A bolt of lightning struck him in the forehead.

He jerked awake, but calmed down when he realized it had been a dream. He let himself fall back onto the pillow, which caused a big question mark to appear in the back of his mind as a part of him realized he had fallen asleep on his stomach with no pillow beneath him. He dismissed the thought for now and, with his right hand, reached up to his forehead where the lightning had hit him.

He sat up in shock. There was a large, thin, odd-shaped scar on his forehead that certainly hadn't been there when he went to sleep.

After a shock like that, it took him a while to realize he wasn't at home in his bed, but in an unfamiliar bed inside a cupboard that apparently lay beneath some stairs. His vision was also strangely blurred, which perhaps explained why his body looked smaller than normal. Looking around, he found a pair of glasses next to the bed and put them on, which repaired his vision problem instantly. He jumped in fright when he saw that a spider was crawling up the bed near his feet. He had always been terrified of spiders. Then someone rapped loudly on the door and a shrill female voice could be heard just outside.

"Up! Get up! Now!"

The woman rapped on the door again and repeated her demand that he get up, before he heard her walk away and apparently start cooking something. He got up, avoiding the spider as best he could, and exited the cupboard cautiously before he realized he was only wearing his underwear. Barely a second passed before he corrected himself; this was someone else's underwear. Utterly confused, he went back inside the cupboard and, keeping an eye on the spider, started putting on some clothes he found on the floor. The woman came back to the cupboard.

"Are you up yet?"

"Err- Almost," he replied, though he wasn't even sure who the woman was.

"Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday."

Duddy's birthday? No. It couldn't be!

As soon as she'd gone, he opened the door and looked into the mirror on the wall opposite. Nothing could have prepared him for the shock he now experienced. He pinched himself in several places, hard. I'm awake! I can't be awake! This can't be!

In the mirror, exactly opposite him, stood a ten years old Harry Potter.

He was still in shock when he entered the kitchen. It did indeed look exactly as he had imagined the Dursleys' home. Everything was spotlessly clean; no doubt the work of Mrs. Dursley. He walked over to the stove and tended the bacon, afraid of getting on the wrong side of that woman. After all, Harry Potter might be a wizard, but he certainly wasn't.

As he turned the bacon, he heard Mr. Dursley come in and make some comment about his hair, but he wasn't really paying attention. His thoughts were too conflicted for him to pay attention to much of anything, in fact.

I'm Harry Potter!

No, you're not! There has to be a rational explanation for all this!

Like what? I'm not asleep. This isn't a dream.

Maybe not, but... Listen to yourself. You're having an argument inside your head.

Didn't Harry have one of these in book six?

Yeah, but at least that one made some sense. His inner friend was struggling with his inner lover.

Point taken. So now what?

If this is real, there has to be a reason why it's happening.

Mum... In that dream, I saw my mum. What did she say?

"They're in pain! Please, help them!"

Hey! Mum's voice doesn't sound like that!

No, it doesn't, but you can't honestly expect me to copy your mother's voice.

What? Anyway, maybe that's the reason. I know most of Harry's story by heart.

So?

So maybe I'm supposed to save Harry from all the bad stuff that happens to him!

And if you're wrong?

I'm not. I'm sure of it. Mum sent me here to help Harry and that's what I'm gonna do.

Then go do it! Good luck.

Coming from me, that means a lot.

Speak for myself.

Realizing his imagined conversation had become flat out ridiculous, he turned his attention back to the bacon, which was starting to burn. In a slight panic, he tried what he could to save it, and managed to keep it from burning any more. He'd just have to cross his fingers and hope the Dursleys didn't notice. By the time Dudley and Mrs. Dursley came into the kitchen, he'd started frying eggs. He had to pour all his concentration into the food, as he had never cooked before in his life and had absolutely no idea what he was doing, but he remembered Harry doing this in the book and tried as he could not to mess it up.

As he tried to fit the plates with bacon and eggs on the present-laden table, he took a closer look at the Dursleys. Dudley was easy to recognize with his round body, a snout for a nose and blonde hair. He stood out like a nun at a line-up. Next was Mr. Dursley with his overlarge moustache and nonexistent neck. His appearance was no doubt exactly how Dudley would look when he grew up, assuming he went on a heavy diet. Mrs. Dursley, on the other hand, was very thin and had an even longer neck than he had imagined.

Dudley was apparently counting the presents, which apparently was very hard work, judging from the face he was making.

"Thirty-six. That's two less than last year."

As the conversation played out, he had a hard time preventing himself from laughing. Thirty-six? That's six times as many presents as I get on my birthday and at Christmas combined.

Despite his best efforts, he couldn't stop himself from grinning, and Mrs. Dursley noticed.

"What are you smiling about?"

His smile vanished instantly.

"Err- Nothing, Mrs. Dursley."

Everyone froze. It took him a few seconds to realize the mistake he had made, during which time seemed to stand still.

"Sorry, Aunt Petunia. I... I'm just..."

Just what? Having an out-of-body experience?

"...just trying to be polite on my cousin's birthday."

"Well, stop being polite. It doesn't suit you."

"Right. Sorry, Aunt Petunia."

He relaxed a bit, realizing she had accepted his lame excuse. Mr. Dursley looked at him suspiciously.

"You're getting weirder with each passing day, boy. I don't want any funny business on Dudley's birthday."

"Don't worry, Uncle Vernon. I haven't learned any magic yet."

Everyone froze again. This time he instantly realized his mistake and that there were no plausible excuses he could make to cover it up.

"I'm kidding!"

Uncle Vernon looked like he was about to explode.

"There's NO SUCH THING as MAGIC!"

"No, of course not! I was just joking."

But it was too late. It looked like Uncle Vernon had reached his boiling point and if he started now, he'd probably keep yelling at him for the next three hours.

"Err- I'll just go to my cupboard now."

Then he ran like a scared little rabbit to avoid the explosion, literally jumped into the cupboard and closed the door behind him. Sure, the cupboard remained infested with spiders, but they were the lesser of two evils.

The phone rang. He remembered this part from the book and wondered if it would turn out differently because of his mistakes. As it turned out, Aunt Petunia was able to shake off her shock and answer the phone. Even so, he highly doubted they'd let him come with them to the zoo after his little stunt. He was wrong.

Uncle Vernon was still steaming when he came to the cupboard.

"Well, boy. It looks like Mrs. Figg can't take you, so we've decided to bring you with us. But just so we're clear, NO FUNNY BUSINESS!"

"Right."

He was relieved. For a second he thought they'd decided to lock him in the cupboard, and he wasn't sure he could handle a few hours alone with large spiders.

Dudley was no doubt upset but his friend Piers had already arrived, so he refrained from his fake crying.

As they neared the zoo, he remembered he was supposed to mention a dream about a flying motorbike, but he also knew how Uncle Vernon would take it. He looked at Uncle Vernon. Nope, his temper had not improved. He decided to leave this little detail out, it wasn't that important.

To avoid upsetting the Dursleys any more than he already had, he kept his distance when they neared the ice cream shop. This meant he didn't get any ice cream, but keeping the Dursleys happy was a priority for him at the moment. He wasn't really surprised when, instead of giving it to him like the book said, Uncle Vernon dumped Dudley's leftover knickerbocker glory in the trash. He was obviously still upset.

Finally they got to the reptile house, and now he started to get curious. Although he first tried to keep his distance from the snakes to avoid the infamous scene from the book, curiosity got the better of him. What if he could talk to snakes, just like Harry?

He slowly approached the brazilian boa constrictor just as the Dursleys moved on to the next snake. He stared at the constrictor for a while, afraid to say or do anything. Then the snake opened its eyes and stared back.

"Err- Hi."

The snake lifted its tail like it was waving at him, but he still wasn't sure he was communicating. The snake lifting its tail at that moment didn't have to mean anything.

"Umm- is it always this boring in there?"

This time, there was no mistaking it. The snake shook its head. He was actually having a real conversation with a snake.

Which means I'm speaking Parceltongue and not English. Weird.

Then it dawned on him that the snake had shaken its head. He had been expecting it to nod.

"It's not always this bad?"

The snake pointed its tail at a bunch of kids on the other side of the room. They were banging on the glass and making a real racket.

"I see. Gee, that's even worse than boring."

The snake nodded.

"So have you ever met anyone like me? You know; someone who can talk to-"

"DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!"

Uh-oh.

He quickly jumped out of the way before Dudley arrived to avoid being punched in the ribs. He realized a second later this was a mistake. With Dudley and Piers pressed against the glass the snake looked miserable, especially since the two of them were making more of a racket than twenty of those little kids combined. The snake looked at him for support, but he could do nothing to help it. He was no match for Dudley and Piers.

If only I hadn't jumped out of the way, my anger might have been enough to help the snake. I might even have been able to do something without the Dursleys suspecting a thing.

The snake was staring at him, as if to say 'help me.'

"I can't," he whispered, "there's nothing I can do."

He could see the disappointment in the snake's eyes. When it learned he could talk its language, it had seen a savior in him. It had thought he was here to rescue it.

I have to do something!

Oh, sure, and then you'll be in the same trouble as Harry in the book, only in your case it'll be worse because of your earlier slip-up.

I have to help that snake! I've got to be like Harry!

But you aren't Harry!

Yes I am!

And even without Dudley's help, he managed to get angry. No, he wasn't angry at Dudley. He was angry at himself.

The glass vanished.

Afterwards, when Piers revealed to the Dursleys he had been talking to the snake, he didn't object. He simply stared out the window and ignored the entire conversation.

Of course, when they got home, Uncle Vernon made him go straight to bed. As soon as he got in the cupboard, he noticed a pair of spiders on the bed. For a while he just stood there, then he looked at them angrily.

"Scram! The lot of you!"

And they did. Every last spider, including ones that were hiding in places he would never have looked in, ran full speed toward the door and clambered under it and out of the cupboard. He heard Aunt Petunia scream.

"That's more like it."

He lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

I am Harry.

Author's Notes:

This chapter has been revamped. It was originally 2 chapters but I've combined them into one. In addition I've rephrased a few sentences and added a little to the story. Notably, I think the beginning looks a lot different, even though I only added a single sentence at the start.