AN: OK I need to go over some stuff before we start this chapter:
1) This will be a slowburn fic. Yes there will be plenty of action, but also chapters like this with a lot of set up and little mention of the stones. Its the only way I know how to write, and makes for a more organic story. I plan to stretch this story through at least 6th or 7th year so we will get there. Please don't pester me for more action, its coming I promise.
2) This story is going to follow the major events of Canon for a while. Yes there will be a Triwizard Tournament, and it will probably have the same tasks. Its going to get really different later but right now its going to stick to the major events of Canon through at least 4th year. I'm not going to give Harry a long lost rich uncle or multiple estates or anything like that.
3) I have thought about shipping. I haven't fully decided yet but it will be finalized by the Yule Ball. You will probably be able to see it coming before that though.
4) I'm upping the rating of this story to M. I plan to make it get darker and darker like the actual novels as it gets closer to the end. Nothing horribly graphic but its going to get darker. I'll put warnings at the top of harsh chapters.
5) Yes this is a crossover fic, but I'm setting most of it in the potterverse. Yes characters from the MCU will show up, but not often and not for a while. The main crossover element comes from the Infinity stones being in the potter universe.
That's everything, thanks for reading! Please enjoy and leave a review.
Chapter 6:
Most days Mafalda Hopkirk really hated her job.
Being an agent at the Improper Use of Magic Office was never going to be the best job. The hours were long. The pay was dreadful. She was surrounded by a legion of moronic coworkers who didn't have a single brain cell between ten of them.
The worst part was that she, a half-blood witch who had graduated Hogwarts with four NEWTS to her name, was practically chained to a tiny desk in a dusty corner while much younger and less qualified purebloods shot up the chain of command because of their rich daddies.
"Sometimes life really wasn't fair" she thought bitterly as she wiggled around her desk from getting her fourth cup of tea in as many hours. She normally wouldn't drink that much but the night shift was tedious, she needed something to take the edge off and drinking Fire Whiskey at her desk was unfortunately not allowed.
She stopped short when she saw a bright yellow paper airplane with blinking blue stripes and flashing green polka dots sitting in the middle of her desk. The sight of it filled her with dread.
"That's really not good" she thought as she reached for it. Someone of her position didn't normally get things of this magnitude.
A yellow form meant that an underaged student had performed magic outside of Hogwarts for the second time in less than three years. The blue stripes meant that the magic performed had been above a class 3 spell, which meant it had the ability to seriously injure or maim if mishandled. The polka dots signaled that the magic had been performed in front of one or more muggles.
Mafalda had never seen all three symbols on a warning before. Normally, a blank yellow form would necessitate a strongly worded letter or a quick visit to the child's parents to discuss behavior. However, something of this magnitude was different. This could easily see the child expelled from school or even a stint in Azkaban if it broke the Statue of Secrecy in a serious enough way.
This was going to require a house call from the Accidental Magical Reversal Squad, Oblivators, and herself as case manager. And an entire cauldron full of paperwork after she got back.
She unfolded the envelope and let out a frustrated groan. Harry Potter, of course it had to be Harry bloody Potter. With a deep sigh, she summoned Potter's file from a bulging cabinet on the other side of the room.
The spoiled prat had probably been showing off, done some risky, dangerous magic in front of a neighbor or something and injured them. Just like last year when he cast that hover charm. Clearly his guardians were absolutely dazzled by the little imp and couldn't tell him no.
The Minster was probably going to get dragged into this now, or maybe the Head Auror in order to sweep it under the rug because it was Potter. Nothing could touch Potter. Somebody's head was going to roll for a violation this serious. When push came to shove and they needed a scapegoat, they would probably turn to her, the expendable office worker.
Still the law was the law. Maybe she could get there first and put the fear of Merlin into precious Potter to get him to stop casting magic every summer.
It would be better than sitting around here drinking tea all night.
Mafalda quickly dictated a message to a team of reversal wizards to meet her at Privet Drive and sighed. At least she was getting out of here for a while.
Most days she hated her job. But today, she it was going to be interesting at the very least.
She grabbed her coat and headed for the apparition point.
Mafalda apparated into absolute chaos.
Privet Drive was utterly choked with emergency vehicles. Two ambulances and a firetruck blocked the entire street as emergency workers swarmed Number 4. As she landed, a team from the local news station swerved down the street, jumped the curb in front of Number 6 and began to hurriedly set up cameras. Only the fact that she appeared on the opposite side of the street saved her from been seen by the numerous pairs of Muggle eyes.
She checked her sheet. This was the correct house, Number 4 Privet Drive, Surrey, but something was terribly wrong.
The entire front wall of the house had been demolished like someone had taken a blasting curse to it. The left half of the roof was sagging dangerously as if was going to collapse into the street at any moment. Mafalda could clearly see the sitting room and kitchen from where she was standing on the opposite sidewalk. Rubble and masonry scattered across the front lawn and street surrounding the house.
The Muggle paramedics were straining and heaving, trying to load the largest woman Mafalda had ever seen onto a double wide gurney. The woman was severely injured, looking for all the world as though she had been struck by lighting. Her skin was blackened, almost charred, and she was missing several teeth. Her hair had been burned off leaving her almost completely bald.
Mafalda felt a chill go down here spine. Accidental magic on this scale was almost unheard of, especially for a rising third year. This was something else.
Loud pops all around her signified the arrival of the reversal squad and Oblivators. She turned and saw they were all staring stunned at the carnage that had once been a house.
As the case manager, she was technically in charge of coordinating the teams unless someone of higher rank showed up. She cleared her throat and their attention snapped to her.
"We have a code Blackpool. I repeat a code Blackpool. Get the Muggles out of here and set up large scale Disillusionment Charms around the property. Obliviate all of the Muggles outside and in the surrounding houses but leave the family inside intact for now. They are on a Do Not Erase list due to their special circumstances."
As they moved to fulfill her orders, she pulled aside the head Oblivator "Several of them took an injured woman to the nearest Muggle hospital. Also, they are setting up a news camera. That will need to be erased and destroyed before they get on the air."
He nodded and motioned to several men. Two of them went straight for the news team and two of them disapperated with another loud pop.
Mafalda slowly made her way across the street, picking her way through darkened chunks of house by the light of the spells being cast around her. She entered through the front door and walked down the short hallway. She passed the cupboard underneath the stairs and entered the destroyed kitchen.
Amazingly, two people was still sitting silently at the table. The boy, Dudley the file said, was big enough to almost require two chairs to sit comfortably. His eyes were beady and sunken in by layers of hardened fat. His mother was the polar opposite. She was deathly thin with a horse face and had a vacant expression. She was staring blankly at a vase of flowers that had miraculously managed to stay upright.
Mafalda went and crouched by the woman.
"Mrs. Dursley?" She spoke as if to a child. "Mrs. Petunia Dursley? My name is Mafalda Hopkirk, and I work for the Ministry of Magic."
At the mention of the Ministry, the woman let out a quiet moan. Taking this as an encouraging sign, Mafalda continued. "Mrs. Dursley, can you tell me what happened here? Who blew out the wall?"
The woman didn't say anything for a long time, just stared blankly at her flowers. Mafalda was about to summon a healer when she began to speak.
"He..." She was so quiet that Mafalda had to lean her ear right next to her mouth in order to catch what she said. "He… was so angry. Like a monster. Marge went after him… and he killed her. He killed Vernon too…" She slowly trailed off.
This must have been the large woman in the garden and the equally large man crumpled in the living room. "Mrs. Dursley, both your husband and sister-in-law are going to be fine and make full recoveries. Where did your nephew go? Where is Harry?"
"The… boy left." She tried to get more out of the traumatized woman but she would not speak again.
Mafalda rocked back onto her heels. Who was this "He?" she talked about. Potter? Potter killed someone? No, Potter wouldn't do that. This had to have been an attack on the boy. But who would know where this house was and want to attack Potter here?
A sudden awful idea struck her. It had been in all over the Prophet this morning…
She needed to confirm her theory and she needed to do it now. She left the kitchen and went back to the street. She flagged down one of the senior members of the reversal squad.
"Hank. What was the spell used here?"
Hank slowly looked at the house and then back at her. "It looks like someone actually summoned lighting and threw it through the big woman. The force of her body is what broke the wall."
"And throwing lighting... is that a normal accidental magic spell?"
Hank rubbed his chin "Any spell can be done accidentally, even an Unforgivable but the odds are really low. You usually don't see something this advanced in accidental magic. Summoning a controlled bolt of lightning like this is an Auror level spell ya know?"
"So your saying this was most likely done by an adult wizard? A highly trained one?"
"I'd put Galleons on it yeah. Why? Do any adult wizards live here with Potter?"
Mafalda didn't answer him. She felt sick. She turned and cast several Patronus messengers. Three silvery Chameleons shot out of her wand and scuttled into the night.
She turned back to Hank. "This wasn't a case of accidental magic. I can almost guarantee this was an attack by Sirius Black."
Dumbledore was woken out a wonderful dream about lemon drops by the sound of shouting from his fireplace.
He stumbled out of bed and checked the time. 1:30 AM. If someone was calling at this hour, it was never good.
He fastened a robe around himself and hurried into his office. He blinked when he saw the panicked face of Cornelius Fudge staring back at him. This was really not good. When the Minster of Magic called you in a panic in the early morning, it was never going to be a fun conversation.
Dumbledore crouched down by the fire. "Cornelius! Do what do I owe the pleasure of this late night call?" he said almost jovially.
"Dumbledore!" The Minster all but yelped. "There has been an attack on Harry Potter! We think it was Black"
Dumbledore felt his insides freeze. Things were spiraling out of control very fast. "What happened?" he said, a hard edge to his voice.
"One of the grunts, Hopekirk I think, in Improper Use of Magic got a warning about an extremely powerful spell being used at Potter's Muggle house. With the hover charm last year, protocol mandated that she go for a visit. Lucky she did. When she got there, the house was almost destroyed, two of his relatives were heavily injured and Harry was missing."
"Have you any sign of him yet?"
"No! Not a whisper. He hasn't used magic so we can't track him that way. Hapcork woke up Amelia Bones with a messenger spell, who then woke me up. I'm calling you before I head over. If anyone can find him, you can. The press is going to eat us alive Dumbledore!"
"I'll meet you at Privet Drive in five minutes. Bring everyone you can." Before Fudge could say another word, Dumbledore cut the connection.
He changed into a new set of robes with a swish of his wand.
Doing a check to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything, he disapperated away with a loud pop.
Fudge met him on the front sidewalk of Privet Drive. He was standing next to a tall, severe looking woman with a monocle. Amelia Bones, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
"Dumbledore! Thank Merlin! The press is trying to swarm all over this place. We managed to beat them back for now but we can't forever. This will be all over the front page of the Prophet tomorrow!"
Ignoring Fudge's ranting, Dumbledore focused his attention on Madam Bones.
"What have you found Amelia?" he asked quietly.
She gave a grimace before answering. "Well, as you can see, there was a high powered spell that destroyed a good deal of the house. We have had teams search the entire house and surrounding houses on this block. Potter is definitely gone. We relocated the Muggles who lived here to an empty house on the other side of town."
"What about the spell? Could it have been accidental?"
"Unlikely. Spells of this magnitude are almost never accidental magic. There are a few on record but that only happened in a case of extreme child abuse and neglect. And I mean extreme. Nothing in our records indicate that anything like that has happened here."
The possibility of child abuse did briefly cross Dumbledore's mind but he shoved it away. That would be absurd, this was Lily's sister. She would never allow something like that happen in her house.
"Have you run a trace on his magic?"
"The last spell he did was a banishing charm inside the front door. After that the trail gets muddy with all the spells that have been cast here tonight."
Dumbledore felt a pain in his chest. This was his worst nightmare. He had always considered Sirius Black to be one of his greatest failings, and now the madman had Harry in his grasp.
He fixed Amelia and Fudge with a steely eyed look. "We can safely assume, that wherever they are, Black and Harry are going to be well hidden. Finish up with the house and Muggles, and we can start search parties in all of the high traffic areas, Knockturn and Hogsmeade first. Set up check points on all the roads and trains leading out of town, Muggle and Magical. Cornelius, we should keep this from the press as long as we can but when it gets out…"
His words were drowned out by a horrible groaning noise as the front section of Number 4 Privet Drive collapsed inward on itself, sending dust billowing into the air.
Dumbledore could only see a horrible symbolism in that. All of his protections and plans had failed. The greatest hope for the wizarding world was in the hands of an insane mass murderer.
Wherever he was, Dumbledore could only hope that Harry would last the night.
Less than a Kilometer away from where Dumbledore stood, Harry was laying under the jungle gym of the Grove Street playground, trying to figure out what he would do next.
He obviously couldn't go back to Number 4. He had destroyed most of the living room and thrown his uncle through a wall. Worse than all that of that combined, he had used magic against the Dursleys. If he went back, he wouldn't even make it two steps inside the front door before someone grabbed him.
Then again, if his relatives didn't get him the Ministry would probably be waiting to snap his wand and expel him from Hogwarts. He had done a powerful piece of magic, in front of his muggle relatives no less. They tended to frown on things like that. That also meant that the Burrow was out because they could find him there as well.
He needed magic in order to survive at all, let alone look for the stones. Getting expelled was not part of the dream. He had to keep them from catching him, at least until he could explain himself.
With no good options and nowhere else to go, Harry instinctively found himself returning to the old playground. He used to hide here from Dudley and his gang when they would engage in Harry Hunting.
Well at least it wasn't all bad. It was August so it wasn't freezing and it wasn't raining. Even better as he was sitting on the swings, a great, shaggy black dog came up to Harry and nuzzled into his side. He laughed and began to pet the dog's flank.
Harry had always loved dogs but this one didn't look too good. It was clearly a stray, with no collar and a sad expression in its eyes. It looked painfully thin; Harry could count individual ribs through its fur. Harry's heart went out to it. He knew what it was like when the people you counted on didn't appreciate you. He split his last Licorice Wand in half and shared it with the dog.
Outside of Marge's visits, Harry didn't remember the last time he had touched or even seen a dog. The Dursleys would normally never have such a dirty creature in their house nor did any of his friends had one. Well, except Hermione. He remembered that during one of their many idle conversations in the library at the end of last term, she had confided in him about how much she missed her beloved Beagle Rosie.
Harry smiled in spite of himself as he thought about how Hermione would become animated as she described how cute Rosie was as she ran around her house and yard…
Harry froze as a thought occurred to him. She had written it down hadn't she…?
He leapt for his trunk and began frantically digging around in it. He tossed aside books, old quills and robes until he found the tiny slip of paper.
On it, in Hermione's precise handwriting, was a phone number and an address: 177 Pennington Place, Chelsea. Hermione's address. She had given it to him as they were leaving the train and told him he should have it "in case he had an emergency. Or just needed to get away from Dudley for a while." There had been a look of concern in her eyes that he hadn't picked up on at the time but it was clear as day in hindsight.
If this wasn't an emergency, he didn't know what was. He needed a friendly face and somewhere to lay low. Hermione would know what to do, because she always did.
Harry knew there was a train station at the other end of town, and that it always had trains leaving starting at 5 AM. One of them had to go to Chelsea. He had no idea how he was going to pay for a ticket but he would figure that out later. Right now he needed to move.
Harry shot to his feet and gathered his things. He shoved Hedwig's empty cage into his trunk and wrestled it closed. It was lumpy and had to be tied together with an abandoned jump rope he found nearby but it closed. He was ready to go.
The dog also got to its feet and stretched. It let out a playful bark and spun around. Harry laughed and gave it another pat. He made to leave the playground and realized that the dog was following him.
"Go on boy! Get out of here! No more food here" Harry waved his hand wildly as he said this, trying to convey that it should leave. The dog looked distinctly unimpressed. Harry's shoulders fell. He didn't have time for this and didn't have the heart to send the dog away.
"Fine, come on if you want. But only for a while."
The dog, as if it understood him, let out another bark and raced up ahead of him. Harry let out a chuckle.
Maybe it would be nice to have some company for once.
It was only as he got closer that he realized that the path to the train station would take him right past Number 4 Privet Drive. Harry held his breath as he and the dog rounded the corner from Wisteria Walk on to Privet Drive.
He didn't know what he expected. Maybe his Uncle waiting outside with a shotgun while Dudley ate popcorn? Marge with an army of Bulldogs waiting to chew his face off? At the very least he expected Number 4 to be lit up with a giant gaping hole in the front wall and police crowding around the garden.
Instead, Privet Drive was dark and silent. The front wall was whole without any side of damage. Even the flowers in the front garden, which should have been crushed by Marge's weight, looked as if they had just been watered.
Harry stared dumbly for a minute before he snapped back to attention. Clearly wizards had been here, probably the ones looking for him from the Ministry.
Harry broke into a light jog trying to put as much distance between the house and himself as possible.
It took him more than an hour to cross town on foot, cutting through backyards and forest trails in an attempt to stay out of the open.
His shirt was uncomfortably sticking to his back due to the muggy heat when he finally came within view of the train station. It was an ugly, unremarkable brick building that looked as if it had seen better days. Broken windows and graffiti loomed high on the walls. It was not the kind of place that a normal 13 year old should be at never be at while unaccompanied at 4:00 AM.
Harry made his way inside and to the counter. He looked up through tired eyes at the ticket prices and felt his hopes plummet. There was no way he could afford a ticket to Chelsea, even if he saved his pocket money from the Dursleys for weeks. He had money in his trunk, but he didn't think they would take his Sickles here
In desperation, he looked around and spotted a door labeled Train Yard- Employees only.
After making sure that the security guards were not looking at him, Harry slowly eased the door open. He found himself in an open air gravel train yard where several of the 5 AM trains were being loaded and gassed up before being sent out.
Harry stuck to the early morning shadows as he crept through the alleyways looking for the correct train. It took an eternity but he found it right as it let out a piercing whistle. He looked at his watch: 4:55 AM. Harry cursed. He needed to get on right now or he would be discovered. He certainly couldn't ride in the passenger compartment or they would throw him off for not having a ticket.
He frantically dragged his trunk up and down the outside of the train, looking for something, anything he could use.
He spotted a small door that looked unlocked. It led to an opening that existed between one of the engines and the air conditioning system. It looked like it would be used for maintenance in normal circumstances but it probably was big enough for Harry, the dog, and his things. If either of them had been any less skeletal, it definitely wouldn't have worked.
It would have to do. Harry threw his trunk and bag inside, boosted the dog after it, and then climbed in himself. Not a moment after he shut the door, the trained lurched forward and began to move.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief. It had been close, but he had made it. The hollow he was in was cramped and hot, but he was used to tight spaces after his childhood.
The dog curled up against his side. Harry let out a tired laugh. "I suppose, if we are going to stay together, I can't just keep calling you dog."
It suddenly let out a sneeze, and then another, and then another.
Harry smiled "Too dusty for you? Do you have the Snuffles?" The dog glared at him and sneezed again.
"If you not going to admit it, I'll just have to call you Snuffles then."
Snuffles did not look entirely happy with his new name, but Harry thought it was perfect.
As the train moved forward, the heat in the tiny compartment began to increase rapidly. Suddenly, weariness overcame Harry as his long night caught up with him. He let out a long yawn, and curled up into Snuffles side.
In no time at all, both boy and dog were fast asleep.
The 1410 express between London and Surrey ran its route every day at 5 AM, 8 AM, 12 PM, and 4 PM. It was a round trip that lasted about an hour each direction with very little variety. Everything about the train screamed routine. Every morning, it filled with passengers heading from the suburbs to London to work in the skyscrapers and then filled with the same passengers riding the opposite direction at the end of the day back to their houses in the suburbs.
The experience on the train was the same every day with the same workers and conductors doing the same jobs and cracking the same jokes to the same passengers. One could conceivably set their watch by the train and a few of the workers had even done so. It was in every way, a normal boring train filled with normal boring people on its way to a normal boring place.
But today was going to be different.
Less than 10 minutes after the train had left the station at Surrey, it came to a sudden halt. Passengers looked up, annoyed that their commute was going to be interrupted. All along the train, the lights cut out.
One of the engineers, alarmed about a potential electrical problem, stood up from his seat.
With a sudden pop, a dozen men and women dressed in green robes appeared all along the train. As one, they all raised their wands and began to stun every person on the train. Some passengers screamed and dodged the first round of spells only to be brought down by the second or third wave. The engineer crumpled to the floor.
When they were sure they were not going to be observed, the wizards got down to business. They quickly, some would say frantically, began to tear apart the train looking for Sirius Black and Harry Potter.
They opened every compartment, every restroom, checked the baggage car and the conductors compartment; everywhere that could conceivably hold passengers. They even checked underneath the train, but they did not check the tiny unlocked compartment on the side.
They found nothing. Absolutely nothing
As a last ditch effort, one cast a magical signature detection spell.
"Sir, two magical signatures detected on the train."
His commander looked up sharply "Is one Potter?"
"Impossible to tell unless he casts a spell."
"We need hard evidence before we hold up Muggles any further. If we hold the train too long, it will affect the entire schedule and people will notice. Its probably just a pair of magicals riding into the city. We can't be here any longer. Restore order and clear the train."
The wizard who cast the original spell did not look happy about this order but complied. The Auror team moved up and down the train, quickly obliviating each of the passengers and the workers. With a nod, each of the wizards vanished in to thin air.
The lights flickered back to life. The train moved forward with a sudden motion, most of the riders jerking awake with the movement. The engineer was confused to find himself in a heap on the floor. The passengers of the 1410 express would go about the rest of their day without the slightest idea that they were just part of the largest manhunt in the history of Magical Britain.
In their compartment underneath the train, both Harry and Snuffles slept on, unaware of what happened as they sped towards Muggle London.
The train came to a sudden halt, jerking Harry from his sleep. For a terrifying second, he could not remember where he was or why his bedroom was so humid.
Slowly it all came back to him. Marge. The wall. The playground. Snuffles and the train.
Once the train came to a complete stop, Harry opened the tiny door to his compartment just a crack and peered out. Not seeing anyone, he pushed the door open and clambered out.
His cramped and sweaty legs sang in joy as he gave an almighty stretch. Harry reached back into the train, grabbed his trunk and lifted out Snuffles.
For the first time, he looked around. He was standing next to a deserted platform in another train station, almost identical to the first.
Thanking Merlin himself that everyone had left the train alone for the moment, Harry heaved himself onto the platform and limped over to the large map of the area that was posted on a nearby wall.
He frantically scanned the street names, hoping it wasn't too far away. He didn't know if he could go much further without eating something…
Just as he was starting to lose hope, he spotted it. Pennington Street was about two kilometers away from the station.
He could walk that. "Hopefully, the police don't get me for loitering" he thought idly.
As he set off, he realized that he was in an extremely nice neighborhood. It was the kind of place that the Dursley's would sell their life savings to be apart of.
All of the houses were much bigger and nicer than the ones on Privet Drive, made of brick or dark stone rather than cheap wood. They looked as though they would potentially have maids or gardeners that worked on them. No one on Privet Drive could ever dream of having workers for their homes. All of the driveways had Range Rovers or BMW's in them, sometimes multiple of each.
It was the kind of place that screamed normality far more than the Dursley's ever could. It made Harry, with his quadruple sized clothes, broken trainers, and dirt smeared face stand out like a sore thumb.
Thankfully, he finally came to 177 Pennington Place. It was a large two story house with brick siding and ivy growing up the sides. The roof was white washed wood. Through the downstairs window, he could see a room with rows and rows of books lining the walls. He smiled in spite of himself. This place screamed Hermione like nothing else he had ever seen.
He trudged his way up the walk and came to a stop at the front door. He reached for the doorbell and had a moment of panic.
Had he made a mistake by coming here? Was she going to turn him away or slam the door in face? What if she called the Ministry?
Realizing he had come this far, and had literally no other options, Harry reached out and rang the doorbell.
Hermione was just sitting down for her annual re-reading of Pride and Prejudice when the doorbell rang.
"That's odd" she thought to herself. Both her parents were at work and they hadn't told her to expect any packages. Nothing but packages ever came to the front door when she was here by herself. She set her book down on the arm of her chair and went to answer the door.
She peaked out of the curtains and gasped. Quickly undoing the lock, Hermione threw open the door to see one of her best friends, Harry Potter, standing on her porch.
He looked terrible. He was drowning in clothes that looked at least 4 sizes too big for him. One of the soles of his shoes had snapped off and was trailing behind him. His face, arms and hair were smeared in a thick black substance that smelled like motor oil. His trunk was bulging and tied shut with a frayed pink jump rope.
Harry's eyes drooped as if he hadn't slept in god knows how long. He swayed dangerously on his feet.
"Harry… my god what happened to you?"
"Hermione I need your help. I think I may have messed up."