Disclaimer:

Mrs. J.K.,… I got nothing… not even for writing this, so don't sue me, please.

Previous:

In our common room, we made our homework, a foot of the benefits of using dragon dung. To spend the rest of the evening, I read a book about household spells. My spell was described as Sanitato with some fancy wand movements. Meh, my way is better.

Flitwick came into the common room: "Mr. Potter, the headmaster wants to see you."

3 The first week.

I groaned: "But, sir, I was planning to go to bed. I am tired."

Hmm, is this going to work? No, not by the look on his face, it is going to be a more than simple meeting.

"I am afraid I must insist Mr. Potter, come along now." said Flitwick, I am certain it won't take long."

I put my book back on the shelf and followed Flitwick out the door. All kinds of scenarios are playing in my head, is Dumbledore going to do his grandpa act? The disappointed headmaster? Do his mind readin… Shit! He is going to mind whammy me! What will happen when he sees my previous life? Ok, he will get bored out of his mind when he sees my pathetic life, just say so. After that, he will erase the whole thing.

What to do… "Professor? Am I in trouble?"I asked, "If it is about those 110 points then I am not sorry. He started it."

Flitwick looked at me sideways: "That is going to be one of the points of the discussion Mr. Potter."

Oops, our letters must have stirred something up. That still doesn't lower the threat of getting mind raped… how do you even prevent it? Mirrored sunglasses are hard to find around here, wearing them will alert them that I am on to them… During our walk, I took my glasses off and tried my first silent cast, in my mind I yelled: "REFLECT!" It certainly did something, I felt my Magic flow through my body into my wand.

Flitwick noticed my cast and asked: "What spell did you try to do just now Mr. Potter?"

"My cleaning spell, professor." I answered, "I tried to cast it silent, I heard from Miss Turpin that the Newt classes are trained to do them. Her sister is the head girl."

"Ah? If you know we teach that in our Newt classes, why did you try it now?" He asked.

I shrugged: "I was wondering why we are first taught to yell our spells for five years, and then being told that you have to unlearn it, that you don't need to yell them."

That diverted him enough to lecture me about the steps of learning Magic, all the way to the headmaster's office.

Pretending to be listening to his lecture, I went over my options. I can go for the beaten-down orphan act, no, my Sparks diffused that path. The aggressive loudmouth? That can work, but it won't get me any fans. Ah! The intelligent boy! I am a Ravenclaw after all. Asking the right questions and pointing out all the crimes… it can work.

Xxxxx

Well, I am sure Mrs. J.K. meant it as something endearing, but Muggle candy as passwords? This is screaming old child molesters' lair! Especially with the bowl of candy on his desk, how more stereotype can you make it? Ah my bad, the moody sidekick, I forgot him for a moment.

Mars bars let us in, oh shit, the room is packed! I take no chances and have my wand in my hand, and my back to the door, ready to do a runner. Dumbledore sat on his throne, the sidekick lurking next to him, to the side of course, nobody is allowed behind his desk, that is his domain of power, nope the sidekick has to stay in a corner and look menacing.

The other heads of Houses are here too, and eight strangers… ah! A woman with a monocle! Dear old Amelia Bones, pictured between thirty-five to sixty-five years old. Susan's aunty and one of the most used MILFs besides Narcissa, Bellatrix, and strange but true, McGonagall. The rest must be Aurors.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in overdrive, I surprised him with my actions, last time he checked I was a small timid boy. Well, the timid is gone, soon followed by the small, here comes the smart one!

"Ah, here he is, come in, Harry my boy," Dumbledore said smoothly.

My boy again? This stereotyping is getting out of hand, or are the wizards so dense to neglect those signs? I better slap this down the hard way.

"No thank you, old man, I am perfectly fine here by the door. You, calling me my boy is all kinds of wrong. You better find someone with your kind of urges, isn't the Potion professor enough to sate them?" I might as well go for a frontal attack, Madam Bones being here means our letters arrived, and she wants answers.

My comment to Dumbledore silenced the room, everyone looked at me, some even got a bit green in the face. Snape almost bit his tongue, but knew he was in trouble and had to keep still. Although, if looks could kill, I would be a corps by now.

I held my hands up in defense: "In my old school they warned us about this kind of people, they are luring kids with candy and acting familiar. Do you see that bowl of candy on his desk? I don't want to be sodomized by him!"

Burn! Half of the Aurors wanted to puke, Flitwick took a protective position before me, and McGonagall is seconds away from fainting. Dumbledore's face froze, he was never so humiliated as now, which means I am doing a great job. Keeping them on their toes, and Dumbledore away from me is my main goal right now.

Madam Bones snapped out of it: "That will not happen while I am here, Mr. Potter," she said, "I am Madam Bones, head of the DMLE. Mr. Potter, we have some questions for you. My niece sends me a letter with memory vials, do you know of them?"

I nodded: "Yes, it was an idea from my friends to send them to you. They knew you are the aunt of Miss Susan, and she agreed to send them to you."

That got the catnip to the Kneazles… is that expression correct? Meh, who cares, what does, is the look on Dumbledore's face, all hope to nip this in the bud is gone now, and it shows on his face.

"You have very clever friends, Mr. Potter," she said, "Bringing this to the DMLE is smart, but it can backfire on you if you are not careful."

I sagely nodded: "You are right Madam Bones, that is why I am looking for legal counseling, in the meantime, I am counting on my head of House Ravenclaw to protect my rights."

She sighed: "Well, let us begin with your grief against Professor Snape. We saw the memory, and agreed that the insult to your father is unbecoming for a professor." she continued, "We also noticed that you were provoking Professor Snape with your remarks, and tricked him into responding to them."

I protested: "He started it! He insulted my father's memory in front of everyone! I only found out last month that my parents died to protect me, all of my life my relatives told me they were drunks that died in a car crash that gave me my scar, now that I know they died as heroes to protect me, I will fight everyone that dares to smear their reputation."

Eat that Snivilous! One of my best rants, even if I have to say so myself! It kicked Snape in the nuts and opened the way to the next topic.

Bones scraped her throat: "Yes, I can understand your sentiment, any who dares to taint my late husband's reputation will suffer for it too."

"That brings us to your home and the way you were raised." she continued, "According to these memories it was far from ideal, it indicates criminal neglect and years of abuse if those memories are a reflection of your upbringing."

"That was never a home to me, Madam Bones," I said, that comment made several nic-nacs puff up and fall apart, "it was a prison for me, and now that I know about Magic, several events in my life made me suspect that I was being guarded by my jailers. Every time I complained to my teachers, the ones that tried to help were transferred to another school a few days later. Neighbors that threatened to report him to child services, were acting as if nothing happened the next day."

I pointed to the nic-nacs and commented: "I bet those things are spying on me, and I bet that old pervert is my jailer."

Tadaa! That brought the attention back to the old perv, he paled when I vented my suspicions, it was too close to the truth, he didn't dare to look at his trinkets to see which have collapsed, they got enough attention as it is. All eyes turned to Dumbledore.

Madam Bones asked: "For years you proclaimed that Mr. Potter is safe and is raised and trained in a happy home, the memories my niece sent to me say otherwise. Do you care to explain, Mr. Dumbledore?"

"Ah, Amelia, what I did was for the safety of the Wizarding world. Too many of Voldemort's supporters are still free and could be a danger to Harry's life. I am certain the boy is exaggerating his home condition. What I did was needed, for the boy as for our community."

That needs a smackdown! "What? Ten years living in a cupboard under the stairs is needed? Getting beat up by my uncle for accidental Magic is for the safety of this world? Being a slave to them from six years old is exaggerating my home condition? Are you insane, old perv?"

I turned to Madam Bones: "Arabella Figs, now that I think about it, she has some unusual cats, I bet that is the spy that is living in our street. My relatives live at Privet Drive 4 Little Whinging, Surrey, Mrs. Fig in Magnolia Lane 8, you can check it out for yourselves if you want."

"It kept you alive, my boy," said Dumbledore with a frown, "no matter how bad they treated you, it kept you safe, the wards I set were to keep your enemies away. And mind your language."

"It didn't keep me safe from them, old perv!" I shot back, "Or do you find it ok to sleep on a foam mattress in a cupboard for ten years? Try it for yourself, and see if you like it. Was it safe when my aunt hit me with a frying pan when I was six? getting beatings at accidental Magic? or getting hit and kicked when my cousin caught me during his Harry hunts? If you do, then you are not fit to be around children."

Man, I am losing my temper here, is that old man so dense or does he think he is allowed to do whatever he wants?

I turned to Madam Bones: "They told me I am the last of the Potters, that the Potters are dated back for more than two thousand years, is it normal to dump an orphan from an old family to live as a house elf in a muggle home? Who is my guardian? Do I even have one?"

Hah, try to get out of this, old perv! The house elf comment is a nice touch, even if I say so mysel… I say so a lot lately, I am bragging too much.

I'm afraid that I am pushing it a bit too far, it is clear that they are afraid of Dumbledore, another one would be arrested already based on my memories. Those memories are incriminating enough to warrant it. Uncle Vernon's rants when he belted me about my freakishness, or my aunt's frying pan, the Harry hunts… Viewing these and letting that old man get away with it? Hah! That is why the newspapers got a copy of my memories.

I sighed: "I see, because he is the mugwimp, and the warlock, the headmaster of this school, he can do whatever he wants with me. Thank you for nothing, Madam Bones. Professor Flitwick? Can I leave now? I lost all trust in the authorities."

Flitwick nodded: "I understand Mr. Potter, my regards for them are lowered too, come along. Albus, we are going to have words about this, this discussion is not finished."

Xxxxx

Flitwick guided me to the hospital wing and called for the Mediwitch: "Madam Pomfrey? Can you call a healer from St Mungoos to do a legal examination?"

"I have to ask permission from the headmaster, Filius," said Pomfrey, "I am not allowed to ask for assistance without his approval"

Flitwick frowned: "Poppy, you are not asking for assistance, I ask for a certified healer to do a legal examination. And be careful what you are saying, not asking for assistance is against your oaths as a mediwitch. If you won't ask for a healer, I will take Mr. Potter to St Mungoos myself."

This is another sour spot in the Harry Potter books, ten years in a cupboard and poor food leaves evidence behind, and she has never done anything about it. Although I can give her the benefit of the doubt, I am here for only one day, so she hasn't had a chance to examine me.

A Floo call later produced an old man in white robes… no, not with a red cross or moon on it, just white robes.

"Professor Flitwick?" he said, "Why are you asking for a healer? Surely there are no accidents already happening on the first day of class?"

Flitwick pointed at me: "Healer Stanford, student Harry Potter just gave a statement to the Aurors of his abusive home condition. As his head of House, I ask you to do a complete, detailed, and thorough examination. Copies of this examination are for the head of the DMLE, Madam Bones, one for my office, one for St Mungoos, and for Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore."

Healer Stanford frowned: "The boy-who-Lived grew up in an abusive home? How can that be? They told us he grew up with friends in a castle. Mr. Potter, go to that bed and remove your clothes, you may keep your briefs on."

He shook his head to clear his mind and waved his wand all over my body, several parts of my body started to glow in different colors. Healer Stanford's frown deepened more and more during his scan.

"Madam Pomfrey, parchment and a dicta quill please," commanded Healer Stanford, "then stand beside me as an official witness for this examination. This is now a high-profile case for the DMLE. Professor Flitwick, you are now acting as his official Guardian, who ever were his guardians before now, will face a criminal investigation."

The following hour was illuminating, ten years of abuse and malnutrition were the obvious flaws, no inoculations, yes, the bindings on my Magic were there too, two of them, a parental and a Dumbles block. A blood tracker, traces of several spells that limited my functions were found, they were dispelled just a few days ago… probably the time when I woke up in Vernon's car and replaced the original Harry. The traditional Mail block and house elf block… Bummer, no Veela block. The icing on the cake was my scar, that got him fuming mad.

"Why wasn't he brought to St Mungoos in 81?" he demanded, "This thing has been festering in that scar and is slowly rooting his way through the defenses that are containing it. It is too late for us to remove it, we need curse breakers to remove all traces. That block on his Magic needs a curse breaker too, I already removed the parental block."

Healer Stanford looked at Professor Flitwick: "I am taking Mr. Potter with me to St Mungoos, you have to come along to register him as your ward."

Alright… even I must admit that we are going fast, on my first day in school, I got Dumbledore in trouble and get my body a tune-up. Meh, we'll blame it on Ravenclaw.

Xxxxx

St Mungoos was fun, as the Boy-who-lived, I am a high-profile patient, which means I get the pretty nurses and the better food, yes, that includes spoon feeding and sponge baths! Got my first boner too when a twenty-something nurse made sure it was properly clean.

It killed the mood when she commented: "I am flattered, Mr. Potter, if you were only ten years older I would be asking for a date."

"I suppose wishing you were ten years younger doesn't work either?" I asked.

She shook her head, "Nope, I had a fiancee ten years ago."

I asked: "Oh? Does your husband allow you to go on dates?"

She smiled sadly: "No, he was killed a few weeks before you vanquished that maniac."

It killed my boner too, "I am sorry to hear that, nurse, I guess everyone had a hard time because of him."

She sighed: "I have yet to find a suitable man, none can compare with my Robert. We were childhood friends, and betrothed at ten years old."

I tried to lighten the mood: "Too bad I am not ten years older, maybe I had a chance to woo you."

While drying me, she chuckled: "Yes, you would be a prime candidate, Mr. Potter. Here is some bad news, this rack of potions is for you to take before you go to sleep, some of them taste very bad. Take them with fifteen minutes intervals for maximum performance, good night Mr. Potter."

She left me with some foul-tasting potions, I shuddered at the thought of what ingredients were used to brew them, although we muggles can't criticize, take wine for example, which is basically the juice of rotting grapes, beer is made of fermented grains or rice. A lot of dishes around the world are made of rotting ingredients. My guess is that when you are hungry you eat everything, and some of it tastes good, hence the national dishes from a lot of countries.

Where was I?… ah foul potions before bedtime makes it hard to fall asleep. The curse breakers were having fun with my scar, their kind of fun though, which means solving hard-to-break curses with trial and error, some of those errors woke me up screaming from pain.

Finally, I shouted: "Bloody hell! Transfer it to a bloody pig and bloody kill that thing!"

It was one of the most popular solutions in Fan fiction, it might work here too, this is a fantasy world after all.

I lost my pretty nurse that day… Gringots doesn't have pretty nurses, nope, you can hardly tell if they are male or female. I got strapped on a cold table and they actually used my idea! Those naffers brought a pig into the room, not a small one, no, a fucking adult mean-looking pig.

A bit worried I asked: "Didn't they have something a few sizes smaller? That pig is huge!"

One of the curse breakers chuckled: "Oh no, Mr. Potter, it has to be a full-grown pig to work, we guess that once it is out of your head, it will move to the strongest body. We are warded, so it is the pig or return back to you. It has more meat on it too."

Hah! The ritual worked, two hours of chanting and dancing… it is not a pretty sight to see some old dudes hopping around, my scar burst open and a black goo came out of it. The goo formed a snake-faced head that screamed and went for the pig. The Joker got bit in the ass by that pig, it was my turn to chuckle, payback is a pig!

Xxxxx

It took a week to get me straightened out, what is left is a month of nutrition potions and gymnastics. All the blocks are gone, no more scars or mind whammies, this boy is ready for some serious nurs… action!

I slammed the doors open of the Great Hall at dinner time, and said one of the most famous movie lines: "I'm Ba~ack!"