A/N: Hiya, it's Velvety here! I just wanted to warn you about this chapter, where we start to get to the meat of the story and less about explanations (though that chapter will be later, when Harry explains his first-third years and generally gives his parents a heart attack). So, the warnings: there will be very graphic abuse here, (if you didn't catch the end of the last chapter) lots and lots of Dumbledore bashing and shows what his plans for Harry are. So, Dumbledore lovers, you may want to excuse yourselves-Dumbles will not be spared here through the end of this fic! Let the story commence!
Chapter Five
Fawn, Bud, Pup, Cub
The sun was shooting brilliant rays of gold and pink into the sky as the purple started to overwhelm the remaining blue. The wind billowed through the trees and left the area of Little Whinging, Surrey, with an almost an anticipative feel to it, as though was awaiting some unknown event.
With a soft pop, Remus, James, Lily and Sirius appeared on the corner of Mangolia Crescent. Lily and James quickly Disillusioned themselves, and Sirius transformed into Padfoot as Remus started walking.
"Remember the plan," Remus told them all. "We'll knock and tell Petunia or Vernon that we need to see Harry as it is of 'utmost importance'. If they refuse and know who we are, Sirius will turn back into human form, because I know that Harry's been threatening the Dursleys with him. If they deny it, I take out my wand, and then Sirius turns back. Sirius and I will convince Harry; Prongs, Lily, do not Disillusion your selves under any circumstances unless it is life threatening or immediate danger. Wait until Sirius and I tell you so, then Disillusion yourselves. Now Harry is a smart kid and he'll ask for proof. He'll either think we're joking or it's Death Eaters. Then, James, turn into Prongs. We should then have him convinced, but don't hug him or anything. Let him come to you. Then we'll take him to my apartment and tell the Weasleys to pick him up there for the Cup. Got it?"
"Yes, Remus," came James' voice, slightly annoyed. Remus sighed, they had spent the entire day going over the plan, but safety is always first.
As they turned the corner, Privet Drive came into sight. With Remus' enhanced hearing he could hear both James and Lily shivering with anticipation. He could hear James running a hand through his hair like he always did when he was nervous, and Lily shifting from foot to foot and squeezing James' hand.
Remus sucked in a breath nervously as they could see the brass number 4 on the next house. Remus had always known Petunia resented Lily for being a witch and for that Harry never had a great home life, but what would they find? Was he neglected? Cared for? Abused? Remus shivered at the last one. He certainly hoped not…and if Harry was, well, Remus would have to physically stop himself from visiting not only the Dursleys but also Dumbledore during the next full moon for putting Harry in a hellhole.
Remus quickly ascended the steps and checked his robes and face again, making sure the glamour charm stayed on to look like Muggle clothes and a completely new identity. He heard James and Lily behind and Padfoot whining, and pressed the doorbell before he was on the wrong end of Lily's temper.
As the doorbell went off with a ding-dong-ding he strained his ears, listening into the home. He heard a television going, the sizzling of a stove, and the screech of a chair being pushed out.
"Vernon, I'll get the door," he heard Petunia's high-pitched voice. Remus winced; it was like murder on his ears, sort of like a house-elf's voice, now that he thought of it…
Petunia pulled open the door. Horse-faced and bony, she had more wrinkles then the last time Remus saw her, but her blonde hair was the same as ever. She had a flowery apron over a salmon-colored sundress, and a string of pearls around her overly long neck.
"Hello, are you Mrs. Dursley?" Remus asked, trying to be polite as possible.
"Yes," she snapped. "We don't take door-to-door salesman."
"No, I'm not a salesman," Remus said pleasantly, but inside he wished he could place a few good hexes on her, "I am Remus Lupin, and I need to speak to Harry Potter. It is a matter of utmost importance."
Remus could see her immediately stiffen at her nephew's name and her eyes narrowed. Padfoot growled.
"No Harry Potter lives here, I'm afraid," she said in a sneer worthy of a Malfoy, "You must have the wrong address," she went to shut the door, but Remus stuck his foot there and drew his wand.
"Harry Potter lives here, Petunia," Remus said coldly. "Don't you remember me?" he tapped his wand and the glamour disappeared.
"Y—you!" she gasped, falling backward into the house. "You were at her wedding!"
"Why, yes, I was," Remus said, then looked down at Padfoot, "Sirius, if you please."
Sirius transformed, and Petunia stumbled back into her foyer. "Black!" she screeched.
"Hello, Dursley," he sneered. "I've come to check if my godson is alright. Where is he?"
Petunia, still sputtering, backed up into the banister leading up the stairs.
"Petunia?" Remus heard Vernon from the kitchen. "What's the matter, I—oh!"
Vernon had waddled down the hall to see the scene in the foyer. He bellowed at Remus and Sirius, both with their wands out and pointed at Petunia, "GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"
"I don't think so, Vermin," Sirius snarled at Vernon then looked at Petunia, "Where. Is. He?"
Vernon roared, raising a fist, "Out! OUT! You freaks are threatening my wife, get out of this house!"
"Stup—" Remus started, but then something caught his attention. He could smell it, he knew that scent anywhere, he knew his cub's scent anywhere, but that was…that was…
"Remus?" Lily's voice asked. "What is it?"
Remus drew a great shuddering breath, inhaling it once more.
"…Blood."
Harry slipped back into sleep, and his dream started off with a woman, a pretty woman with auburn red hair and almond shaped, bright green eyes was sitting next to him on a leather couch.
"Don't give up, bud," she whispered, kissing his forehead. "We're almost there, just a little while longer."
"Please, fawn," Harry turned around to face a man with hazel eyes, round glasses, and messy black hair that stuck up in the back. "Don't give up, we're coming for you."
"Mum?" Harry whispered. "Dad?"
His father wrapped him tightly in his arms. "We're coming, fawn," He sobbed, as his mother kissed him repeatedly on the forehead, "I'm so, so sorry—I failed you…"
"Don't worry, bud," Lily whispered wrapping him in an even tighter hug than one of Mrs. Weasley's. "We'll be together soon. All of us."
Harry nodded; he believed it. He knew his mum and dad were coming. He knew it.
Harry's eyes fluttered open weakly. He strained his eyes, as his glasses were lopsided on his face, trying to figure out what was wrong. The sun hadn't risen yet…Aunt Petunia wasn't calling…but there was yelling. He forced his ears to listen harder, and caught a few words of what was happening that had woken him up:
"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" his uncle was yelling.
Then a familiar male voice, one he couldn't place, said back, "I don't think so, Vermin. Where. Is. He?"
"Out! OUT!" it was his uncle again. "You freaks are threatening my wife, get out of this house!"
"Stup—" it was another familiar voice, but it cut off. A woman's voice, one he vaguely recognized from somewhere asked, "Remus?" Remus? Harry wondered. It couldn't be Professor Lupin? "What is it?"
He then heard Remus' voice, shuddering and thoroughly petrified and disgusted say, "…Blood."
"WHAT?" suddenly it was the woman screaming. "WHAT DO YOU, MEAN BLOOD? WHAT HAPPENED? IS MY BABY ALRIGHT, IS HE HURT?"
Harry frowned, or tried to, he was in so much pain he couldn't. It wasn't Aunt Petunia, but it was the way she might speak about Dudley, or Mrs. Weasley about one of her kids…
"DURSLEY!" this time it was a man's voice. "DURSLEY, WHAT DID YOU DO? WHERE IS MY FAWN?"
He heard his uncle's voice again, but everything was becoming dimmer, getting fuzzy, he was slowly slipping back into unconsciousness…but fawn, fawn rung a bell…the dream? Harry wondered, no, it couldn't be, my parents are dead…
Harry had a fleeting image of Uncle Vernon telling Hagrid that Dumbledore was a crackpot old fool, and he a feeling this would end the same way.
"I gave him what he deserves, a nasty freak like him! It's more then he deserves, contaminating normal people, us letting the Freak live here, he should've gone the same way like his good-for-nothing parents—UMMPH!" there was a whimper of pain.
The man's voice was low and dangerous. "Don't you dare talk about my son like that, Dursley. He is ten times the man you will ever be! Now where is he?"
"Door…top of the stairs…second one…left side…"
Harry could barely catch what they were saying; his room was becoming a blur, and everything was phasing out. He dimly heard feet pounding up the stairs, screaming and yelling…crying…yes, someone was crying over him…strong arms were scooping him, ripping pain and fire through his body as he tried to scream at the contact it made with his open wounds and his chest screaming in pain…the last thing he heard before it all faded to black was,
"I'm here now, fawn."
Tears ran down James' face as he pounded up the stairs with Sirius and Remus. They both looked sick at the sight of red drops staining carpet on the stairs, giving James a foreboding feeling about whatever laid inside…They followed right after him to his son's door. He barely kept in a scream of rage as he saw the deadbolts and cat flap on the door, but Remus, surprisingly, had no such qualms and ran down to where Lily was screaming at Petunia.
With a wave of his wand, the only thing holding him back from cursing the Dursleys—and more importantly, Albus Dumbledore—to the next generation was the fact that the stag inside of him could smell the blood, mingled with the scent of pine and musk and lilies—James caught his breath. His son's scent smelled of Prongs' scent mixed with Lily's. Then there was Harry's, the same musk scent but mixed with sweet smell of sugar maple.
Slamming open the door, Sirius swore as they caught sight of iron bars over the windows. It was a tiny room with beaten-up old wardrobe, a scrubbed wooden desk, shelves with dusty books on them, and a small wooden bed, and on the bed—Harry.
James could not hold in the tears as he stumbled blindly over to his fawn. Harry was half-naked, his messy black hair coated with sweat and blood. Sirius and James both yelled profanities as they saw the whip marks over Harry's back, the blue-and-black marks over his thin, skeletal body—his eyes were bulging out of their sockets, him with two purple and black eyes…James screamed in fury when he saw the word FREAK carved into his son's arm…the lacerations crisscrossing his son's arms, legs, back, chest, one that caught across his face…the knee cap twisted almost the wrong way one his fawn's left leg and the swollen ankle on his right…the sheets, which used to be white were stained scarlet…
James gathered his son up in his arms, wrapping him tightly in his arms, and he could hear Harry's scream as he touched his ribs…tears streamed down his face as he sobbed into Harry's hair, "I'm here now, fawn."
James carefully picked his way down the stairs through blurry eyes to Lily and Remus, who were towering in rage over a shrunken Petunia, Vernon, and Dudley Dursley all cowering in a corner of the foyer.
Lily turned to see her son in James' arms and screamed in rage, before she rushed over to James and gathered her son in her arms, sinking to the floor.
"Harry…oh, Harry, I'm so, so sorry…bud, please wake up, please wake up…" she sobbed over the limp form over her and James' pride and joy.
"We need to go," James heard himself say hollowly. "Before that bastard Dumbledore gets here. Remus, Sirius, get his stuff and meet me outside the Anti-Apparation wards."
Remus and Sirius who had been both growling and cursing and raving in canine rage, turned out to get Harry's trunk. James bent down to help Lily with the almost-lifeless form of their son. Lily tapped her wand to Harry's chest and bandages sprang up, that pressed her wand to his forehead to put him into stasis so he wouldn't loose any more blood before they could heal him.
James once again scooped up Harry, his lips pressing to his son's forehead, right over his lightening scar. They walked out on to the porch step, but before they did, James turned to the Dursleys and said coldly, "I promise you there will be hell to pay for treating my son like this."
Sirius turned to face the Dursleys as James and Lily walked out holding Harry. He raised his arm to curse them, but Remus put an arm on his shoulder.
"Padfoot," he said urgently, "the alarms will go off soon and Dumbledore will catch us. Let's get Harry's stuff and go—the faster we get out of here, the better. Harry could die of his injuries."
The revelation about the severity of his pup's injuries jolted Sirius out of revenge mode. He remembered the last time he tried to get revenge—he ended up in a cell in Azkaban; he wouldn't put it past Dumbledore to put him back just because he didn't want anyone to know of Harry's abuse and keep him at the Dursley's for 'the greater good' or whatever the manipulative old man was spouting these days.
He nodded stiffly, but not before throwing a dark look at the Dursleys. Remus headed up the stairs to grab Harry's stuff, but only came down with Hedwig's cage and couple of books and packages of food.
"It's not there," Remus told him, growling at the Dursleys. "Where is his trunk?"
Dudley gave a terrified squeak and hid behind Petunia and Vernon, both of whom were silent and scared stiff, crowded into a corner of the foyer.
"Oh, this is getting ridiculous," Sirius, snapped, taking out his wand. Seeing the Dursleys' seeing their frightened stares at the wand, Sirius growled, "Unfortunately, I'm not going to harm you pieces of garbage." Laying it flat in his palm, he said, "Point Me, Harry Potter's Belongings!"
The wand spun around and pointed to the cupboard under the stairs. Remus growled, looking at the padlock on it, but unlocked with a wave of his wand. Sirius pulled out his pup's trunk and broomstick, but what was revealed to be underneath it raised a whole new wave of fury.
Underneath the trunk was a small cot, and against the wall were small shelves with little tin soldiers on them—some knocked over like Harry had recently been playing them.
Sirius' knuckles turning white with his grip on Harry's trunk, he turned to Remus and said hoarsely, "Dumbledore swore to us he was safe. He swore to us he was in a good home. HE SWORE TO US HE WAS BEING CARED FOR!"
Remus had a look of cold fury on his face. "Let's go, Sirius." He turned around to the Dursleys and spit at their feet.
"You—are—monsters," Remus said, in cold, calm voice that made amber flash in his eyes and a shadow of the wolf he became show. He spared them another glance then marched out into the darkness.
Sirius, with one last canine snarl that portrayed the savage grim within, followed Remus out with his pup's trunk in hand to meet James and Lily on the corner of Magnolia Crescent.
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Order of Merlin, First Class, and Grand Sorcerer, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot woke with a start. Some of his monitors—actually, they were the ones he stole from Charlus Potter after James was killed (he personally smirked at the thought of ol' Charlie and Dory rolling in their graves)—that minded Harry had stopped working properly. Two of them, to be exact. The one that made sure Harry was in Privet Drive, and the one that monitored his health.
Oh sure, he had fed Harry all the rubbish about blood wards, when in fact, the only blood ward was the former one—the one that made sure Harry stayed with his blood relatives.
He knew how Potter was abused—how could one not see? Sometimes Dumbledore wondered if Snape was really that blind and arrogant not to see his sister-in-all-but-blood's son being abused. But, to be frank, Dumbledore simply didn't give a damn about the boy or his thrice-damned parents' will. In fact, his abuse was the key part of Dumbledore's plan.
Dumbledore knew the prophecy and knew that Harry Freaking Potter, the Brat-Who-Lived-That-He-Had-To-Put-Up-With-Until-The-Arrogant-Brat-Died was the only one who could defeat Tom, his first unwitting protégée.
Well, Dumbledore thought he was unwitting.
It appeared that Riddle was smarter and more cunning than Dumbledore gave him credit for. In fact, he loath to admit it, but Riddle was a better Slytherin than even Dumbledore was—his House was another thing he had done extensive work to hide.
Apparently, Riddle, who had already delved deep into the Dark Arts, had been aware of Dumbledore's manipulations from the beginning—the compulsion charms, blocks on his magic, taking his post, even the occasional Imperius curse—and had combated each thing Dumbledore had done without the Master Chess Player's knowledge.
Dumbledore had taking it upon himself to decide this Riddle boy was to be his heir, the day after they met in his orphanage. He was going to play all the right cards to make him Minister of Magic: let him get away with certain things, make himself approachable, etcetera; thus turning him into a nice little pawn of his to play Minister of Magic so he could guide through laws, pass regulations, and generally get away with anything (the Dumbledore family having lost its fortune and Lord title centuries ago), and then, in the end show him the manipulator's game and have him take Dumbledore's place while he journeyed on to 'the next great adventure'. Honestly. What fools. He thought. As if I would let myself simply die.
However, Tom Marvolo Riddle had other plans than simply being a pawn.
Dumbledore had been going to confront him about running for Minister, just after graduation when Riddle approached him, a smirk on his face and quite calmly said, "You should really work on your imperio, Professor. A first year could through it off. Believe me, I have experience."
Then he walked away, leaving Dumbledore utterly shocked and furious, but he disappeared far away into Albania, and was not seen again until ten years later when he resurfaced as the new Dark Lord.
But Dumbledore certainly wasn't going to make that Gryffindor-ish Potter brat his heir. No, he had plans. He had indirectly killed off the Potters by suggesting the Fidelius Charm, and then with a few quick compulsions and legilimency probes on Pettigrew, viola! He handed the Potters to Voldemort on a silver platter. He then plopped the younger Potter at the Dursleys, but not before using him to get into Potter Castle to steal some of Charlus' trinkets and books, but was frustrated that he couldn't get into the upper levels to get more of the books—he couldn't even get past the Grand Staircase on the first floor.
He then, of course, bound the Potter brat's magic abilities, put a few compulsions on the boy to follow him, have his relations hate him, and have Severus and many Dark families hate him, opened his mind link to Voldemort so Dumbledore could keep tabs on him, and Dumbledore then threw him down on the doorstep and left him with Dursleys—which was the really the masterstroke of his plan. Have the Dursleys bully him into submission so he then looked at Dumbledore as his saving grace, send Hagrid to fetch so he wouldn't explain the magical world at all and give him any independence, and simply forget to inform of his parents' will and the fact he was emancipated at age eleven, a lord, heir to five noble families, and scion of five more and conveniently, in the eyes of the Ministry, make him Potter's Magical Guardian (of course, he wasn't, Black was but it helped that Dumbledore got him locked up in Azkaban with no means of escape) and way to steal money from his vaults. Of course, those blasted half-breeds they call goblins would not let him in to the family vaults, but he would get those when he forged Potter's will.
Oh, yes of course! Let us not forget that Dumbledore, each year, set him up with a trial-and-error way of training him: feeding him enough information to conveniently keep him curious about the mystery and terror Dumbledore decided would be good to unleash on the school that year. After all, to the all-powerful Albus Dumbledore, what was a few lousy Mudbloods or half-breed mongrels?
Nothing, that's what.
Anyway, Dumbledore would, ahem, conveniently, suggest Severus brew up a love potion, than would take the Mudblood Granger's hair, and he himself would arrange the marriage between Granger and Potter, leaving her as the sole benefactor, while doing the same with the Weasley girl and Longbottom squib (well, he on purposely bound his magic so he would have a back-up in case the Brat-Who-Lived turned into the Brat-Who-Died on one of his stupid heroic stunts saving his friends, who "casually asked" with his grandfatherly persona everyone once in a while how Potter was doing).
Then Potter and Longbottom would handily have a duel with Voldemort, where he would unbind their magic, watch them and Voldemort explode into pieces, and then conveniently stroll in looking teary-eyed. The Mudblood and Weaslette, would of course, die of heart-break and leave everything to him, all of the vast Longbottom and Potter fortunes, leaving him with even more power and money, and eternal lifetime with a certain stone he cleverly stole from his "friend" Nicholas Flamel all of when Sirius Black were conveniently rotting away in Azkaban or drowning in self-pity, respectively.
He had, of course, set backs, like when Sirius Black escaped from prison and had to bring in Remus Lupin in. But "unfortunately" Pettigrew escaped, Dumbledore "couldn't" push for a trial, and Lupin's secret "accidently" got loose. Heh. Oops.
And now, he another set back. Harry Potter was missing and nowhere to be found.
A/N: So, yes, manipulative, callous, and just plain mean Dumbledore. Again, Dumbledore lovers, Dumbledore may or may not repent at the end of this fic, most likely not, and will probably die in the seventh-year fic of this one. Just so you are aware: he will be referred to as the second Dark Lord. Also, in case you were wondering: this is not a Weasley bashing fic. Ron and Hermione (and Molly, too), when asked by Dumbledore, genuinely thought they were doing what was best for their friend. The Golden Trio will be drifting apart, seeing as Ron and Hermione need to grow up a little bit a recognize their faults, but Harry will still be friends with them. They will mostly become important again in fifth year, during the forming of Dumbledore's Army (though it most certainly not be called that).