Hi! Surprise, I'm not dead! Surprise again, this story is not being cancelled!
I'm just suddenly a college student and therefore a lazy asshole!
Please stop threatening to burn down my house. :D
In other news, plot things are happening!
This chapter is dedicated to JannaKalderash.
Chapter 8: The Potter Boy
Harry; Six Years Old
The small boy flinched as each thunderous footstep moved down the creaking stairs. Dust fell from the ceiling of his cupboard as Vernon moved above him, his angry grumbling and cursing leaking through the thin walls.
Harry didn't have the slightest idea why his Uncle was so angry, he never did, but he wasn't stupid. The Dursley's may have preferred to pretend he didn't exist, but the moment Vernon remembered otherwise, he was going to be in trouble.
Any other time, Harry would've bolted out the door long before Uncle Vernon could've made it down the stairs, but it was after dark, and Aunt Petunia always locked the cupboard at night.
He'd made it to the bottom of the stairs now, only feet away from his door.
Harry squeezed himself into the vary back corner of the cupboard, skin prickling as cobwebs brushed his skin, but he ignored it.
Uncle Vernon was outside his door, breathing heavily and cursing under his breath, struggling with the lock.
He screwed his eyes shut, wishing above all else that he could be anywhere, anywhere but here.
Imagine his surprise when the door shielding him slammed open, his eyes going wide with fear, only to find himself in a room was certainly not his cupboard, staring up at a man that was certainly wasn't Uncle Vernon.
"Who dares to enter my-" the man paused, flabbergasted to see a little boy sitting on his bed.
He had dark hair, long and slicked back, and he was tall, taller than Uncle Vernon, and much, much skinnier. His eyes were green, and highly confused, his jaw slack with disbelief.
"Where am I?" Harry asked timidly, as the stranger walked closer. He dropped to his knees in front of the poor confused boy, something like awe lighting his eyes.
"You…how did you manage to get here Harry?" He asked hoarsely, but not unkindly.
Big eyes widened further.
"Do I know you?"
The strange man chuckled quietly.
"Not exactly. But I know you. And I knew your parents very well."
"My…my parents?
He nodded in answer, and Harry was full of questions, but then he noticed the blood.
His mouth was circled by small holes, unnoticeable at first glance, but glaring and painful looking from where Harry sat. They were raw, and looked like they'd only recently stopped bleeding.
He wondered what had happened to the stranger who was nice to him.
The man noticed his gaze and brushed his lips with a finger.
"Do these scare you Harry?" He asked quietly.
He shook his head, but couldn't tear his eyes away.
"They look like they hurt," he said simply.
The stranger smiled slightly.
"I'll be alright, I promise. But let's not worry about me just now. Where have you come from little one?"
He'd never seen that look in a grownup's eyes before, like they cared about what he said. So he told the stranger about Uncle Vernon, and Aunt Petunia, and how he was probably going to get a spanking when he got home, but he didn't even know how he'd gotten here.
The man had gotten an odd little smile on his face, one that didn't look particularly happy if you asked Harry.
"Harry, your birthday is coming soon, right?"
He shrugged. Birthdays were always something Dudley had. He didn't think he had one.
Little did he know that the stranger could hear the words Harry had neglected to say.
He saw a small lifetime of loneliness in this little boy.
He smiled kindly, and held out his hand.
Harry watched in awe as a small circle of gold appeared, where it clearly hadn't been before, eyes unbelievingly staring at the golden bracelet and the man's smirking face.
"How?"
"Magic, Harry. People like us can do incredible things. It's why your Aunt and Uncle are scared of you."
"Like us? Me?" The little boy couldn't believe his ears.
The man's green eyes lit up with a smile.
"Of course. You're a wizard, Harry."
Present
Hermione trailed behind the first year Slytherins, who had formed two identical lines behind the Prefects. They walked in sync, no one uttering a word, as if they'd been using this formation all their lives, instead of just a few minutes.
"Look at us," she murmured to Harry.
"Twelve leetle girls, in two straight lines," she drawled in a perfect French accent. Harry snickered, causing a blonde head to turn, and Draco to sneer at their disturbance.
She rolled her eyes, and just as the group turned a corner, grabbed both boys and pulled them aside.
"Stark! What are you doing?" The Pureblood hissed, glancing worriedly at Harry, and their classmates, who were quickly leaving them behind in the unfamiliar hallways.
"Oh calm down, will ya? Nobody's gonna notice we're gone, and besides, I already know the way to the common room," she said, grinning in a way that told both boys she was up to no good, and leading them into a side hallway they hadn't noticed before.
"Uh, Mione? What are we doing, exactly?"
The brunette smirked.
"Orientation."
"Harry, meet Draco, Draco, this is Harry," she said as she led them to a particular painting of a bowl of fruit, and tickled a particular pear.
"Stark what-" Draco's warning tone was cut short when the portrait swung open to reveal a massive room filled with stoves and sinks and all sorts of kitchen-y things. Dozens of the strangest little creatures you might ever see were scurrying around, cleaning what they could clearly tell was the remains of tonight's feast.
"What are you doing here Stark?" He hissed, glancing around nervously for listeners.
"Me? Why I'm just continuing my magical education," she said innocently.
Draco pinched the bridge of his nose, and sat down roughly, and she grinned.
"I mean what are you doing in Scotland? In Slytherin House? With Harry Potter?!"
A little pout settled on her face.
"What is that about anyways? Harry, I thought you were from the muggle world, why does everybody here know you?"
The boy in question blushed, his cheeks quickly turning pink.
"Eh, about that..."
"You mean Hermione Stark, supposed smartest girl in the world doesn't know who Harry Potter is?" Draco sneered.
She rolled her eyes.
"Oh yes, terribly sorry that my studies on magical theory took time away to learn about celebrities. I'm a genius Draco, not a God," she huffed, turning up her nose at him.
Harry burst into giggles, earning an odd look from his companions. He sobered immediately
"I mean, am I really a celebrity? I didn't even know the magical world existed until my eleventh birthday. If I were famous, wouldn't I have heard from someone?"
Draco looked flabbergasted?
"You mean, you don't even know? About the Dark Lord? About your parents?"
"Oh, psh, I know about that. I just figured a lot of people die when the magical version of Hitler is running around, so I'm not exactly a special case."
"Dear Merlin, you don't know anything! Of course you're a special case! You're the boy who lived! You're a legend! How did no one ever tell you this?" He asked, his whisper getting louder as he lost his careful composure.
Hermione thumped him on the back of the head.
"Quiet! I thought the point was to not let everyone know we're here?" She warned.
The pureblooded boy huffed, but calmed down.
"Now, since we've already covered that we don't know every single thing that goes on in the Magical World we just entered, maybe you should explain to us what being the "Boy Who Lived" means," she said.
Draco rolled his eyes, but made room when Minnie sat next to him, Harry on her other side.
"Okay, fine. So the Dark Lord was in power since way before we were born, and he was close to taking over. But one night he went to destroy a family that had been personally responsible for a lot of the resistance-"
"The Potters?" Minnie asked.
He nodded.
"Nobody really agrees on how, but my Dad said he just walked in the front door, and killed Harry's parents with the Killing Curse-"
"Wait, the what?" Harry interjected.
Draco snorted with disappointment.
"In the magical world we have these three spells, called Unforgivables. Basically, if you cast any of them on a person, you automatically go to Azk- uh, Prison, for life. The Killing Curse is unforgivable because there's no way to shield from it or counterattack. You either dodge it, or you die, no in between."
Hermione nodded for him to continue.
"So he used the Killing Curse on your parents, and they died. But then he got to you, a little baby, and everyone agrees that the Killing Curse was used on you, but something happened. Nobody knows how, but you lived, and the Dark Lord died, and the war ended. Ever since you've basically been the most important person in the Wizarding world-"
"Wait, seriously?! Are you kidding?" Harry said, an odd look in his eyes.
Hermione glanced over, concerned.
"Harry? What is it?"
"Now I know you're just messing with me. I'm not important. Definitely not enough that anyone in the wizarding world cares about me. I'm not this Boy Who Lived, I'm just a kid sorry enough to have his parents murdered, and I've been paying for it since," he said, his voice was calm, but his eyes were blazing, his mouth held in an angry line.
She nearly flinched at the look in his eye, but instead moved closer, and touched his shoulder gently.
"Harry,"
Slowly, reluctantly, he looked her in the eye.
"What do you mean by "paying for it"?"
He glared at Draco's direction, and the pureblood held up his hands in the universal sign of surrender.
"I hope you're wrong, Malfoy, because if this is how you lot treat celebrities, I don't think I like it much here."
"What the hell are you talking about, Potter?" The blonde asked, surprisingly calm. She'd half expected him to become angry.
Harry looked around, suddenly aware of their new housemates, sitting or standing around just out of earshot as they caught up with their year mates.
"I won't talk about this here," Harry muttered.
Hermione nodded, and stopped Draco's frustrated response.
"Alright then, not here. And not tonight. We'll talk about this tomorrow. I know a place where we can go."
Draco nodded, and tugged on Harry's shoulder, leading him towards the First Year Boy's dorm.
Hermione had research to do.
The girls dormitory was lavish, not more than she'd ever experienced, but definitely more than she liked. She'd read the Hogwarts rules, and destruction of property was punishable by Detentions, and well, everything in the Slytherin Girl's dorm seemed especially breakable. Luxuriously soft beds and crystal hangings and gorgeous paintings were great and all, but she was supposed to live in this place, and how they expected it all to survive a year with her, she didn't know. One thing was clear, she needed to find a safe, slightly less destructible place to work.
The three other beds in her room were empty at the moment, but the names on the trunks read "Pansy", "Daphne", and "Tracey". She knew that Pansy Parkinson was the girl who'd attached herself to Draco at first opportunity, he'd certainly complained about her enough. But the other two…she didn't know. It'd be interesting, at least, rooming with them.
A few minutes she'd stripped off her pristine uniform and was wearing work clothes. She didn't expect to destroy anything in her little test, but it couldn't hurt. Luckily she'd already tested a handy little spell to repair damage.
She pulled her Stark Phone out of her pocket, a toolkit out of her trunk, and started to dismantle it.
SO UHM YEAH. This would be the part where I launch into pitiful apologies and explanations but honestly I have no excuse so yeah. I suck. Sorry. HOWEVER I HAVEN'T BEEN DOING COMPLETELY NOTHING IN MY ABSENCE. I have expanded on my plans for this story, and the sequence at the beginning of this chapter is only the very beginning of this. I'm sure most of you can guess where I'm heading with that, but meh. But we got (Little) Harry's perspective, and that's always fun!
So, was the Madeline reference too cheesy or what? XD I was really proud of myself when I wrote that part…a couple months ago.
Opinions and hate mail (regarding my laziness anyways) are welcome.