HARRY POTTER IS BROKEN
I don't own Harry Potter. I do own the story and any original characters that I create. I seek no profit from my writings in the Harry Potter Universe. The rights are owned by J K Rowling and whoever happens to own Warner Bros.
Harry Potter returns to 4 Privet Drive a broken boy. He's seen another boy callously cut down in front of him, he's been forced to duel Voldemort, seen the ghosts of his parents and been told how proud they are of him. Then Dumbledore makes him return to Durzkaban, instead of spending the Summer with Sirius. Harry is emotionally exhausted.
At 15, Harry did not know a lot of things. He had no idea about the prophecy. He did not know about horcrux. He does not know why his scar hurts when he's around one. The prophecy is in one of James notes in his Journal. Sirius has been recuperating at a Health Spa his family owns in the South of France. It's not far from Beauxbatons and a fairly major Veela colony. Sirius still feels guilty that he was not the Secret Keeper.
Harry Potter went back in time again, starting as the 15-month-old toddler left on the Dursley doorstep. He's off to Durmstrang, now, after his temporary suspension from Hogwarts.
Some slash in this chapter.
Harry James Potter read the Daily Prophet before he left for Durmstrang. It was a hit article by Rita Skeeter on him. The article claimed he was possessed by You-Know-who, because what he'd done was impossible for an 11-year-old with his background, who had been brought up by magic hating muggles. Despite the erroneous conclusion, it was a fairly accurate article. Not what older Harry had been used to from Rita Skeeter. If Igor Karkorof wasn't scared before and believed the article, he'd be so now. It would make reaching him doubly difficult.
Older Harry had been 15 and had just been tried before the entire Wizengamot for using magic around Dudley Dursley. His cousin Dudley, who knew all about magic having been given a pig tail by Hagrid. Older Harry had said he'd come back in time, consciousness only, after surviving the Triwizard Tournament as its fourth contestant, but his memories had continued after that. He'd entered Harry as his 7-year-old self, on his birthday. The year he'd spent after had been spent training and trying to save people – his thing, apparently.
Harry had spent his time learning all the spells older Harry had learnt for the Tournament under a plan drawn up by his classmate Hermione Granger. She'd put a lesson plan together for Hagrid to teach Care of Magical Creatures to third through seventh years. She was very bright. Harry had started Hogwarts and realised that he had not gone back far enough in time to change Hogwarts from the school in need of special measures that it had become. He'd gone back in time to experience being dumped on the Dursley's doorstep, again, by Dumbledore, McGonagall and Hagrid.
Harry had killed Dumbledore and put McGonagall into St Mungos with a concussion. He'd not done anything to Hagrid. Older Harry had loved the guy, Harry thought he was an oaf. He was agreeing with Draco Malfoy, one of 68 Slytherins his fiendfyre had consumed. That had included his former 'best mate' Ron Weasley and his pet rat, Scabbers, the animagus Pettigrew, betrayer of Harry's parents.
Harry had taken an International Portkey to the Gnomes in Zurich. That had been 50 galleons. Travelling outside magical Britian was frowned upon. Harry spent 1200 galleons acquiring 17000 Reichsthallers (R$). 200 galleons of that had been commission. He'd then flooed to the outfitters for Durmstrang. He spent 5000 R$ on his school clothing. He would then take the carriage to Durmstrang. On his way there, Harry let his mind wander back to the conversation he'd had with the Sorting Hat.
"Well, Mr Potter, you have come back to us. Let me see, I put you in Gryffindor. I still say you would have done well in Slytherin," the Sorting Hat had said.
"Let me see," Harry mimicked, "I had no friends, wasn't brave, wasn't cunning or ambitious. All I wanted to do was prove myself academically. That marked me for Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff."
"Ah, but you had the ambition to want knowledge. That made you a Slytherin."
"I had no idea what I wanted to do with the knowledge I acquired. You missorted me."
"It would appear I did. Better be RAVENCLAW," the Sorting Hat said the last phrase out loud.
"I would have liked a longer conversation," Harry said, well, thought.
"You've sat here for five minutes," the Sorting Hat retorted. Harry checked his watch. The blasted Sorting Hat was right. It had not felt that long.
Harry's first view of Durmstrang confirmed Gellert's opinion of it as a squat, utilitarian functional fortress. Gellert had reckoned that an army could spend a couple of decades without cracking it. Harry thought that unlikely, given how far muggle weapons had come since Gellert had written his opinion.
Arriving at Durmstrang, Harry was met by Eversham. The man talked English, handed Harry his timetable and showed him his assigned room. Individual room with communal washrooms. Harry changed into his Durmstrang uniform, put his defences up and gathered his textbooks and parchment and quills and made his way to class. Eversham accompanied him.
Harry's first lesson was Dark Arts. He entered the classroom and Eversham introduced him in rapid German. Harry's primary school German was not able to keep up. He had the potion to make, soonest. There was a spell that he'd discovered to speak other languages. He cast it silently, wandlessly, now. Harry was able to answer the Professor. He looked around at the 9 other boys and 10 girls who would be in his pod for the next 7 years, if Harry was unable to return to Hogwarts. One girl caught his eye. Cassie Wagram, his friend from primary school was sitting in the first row looking rather dejected. Harry went and sat next to her. The professor started explaining the Dark Arts in rapid German and Cassie looked like she was not getting this. Harry cast the spell on her. She looked at him, shocked. Harry had to cast the spell twice more, before the lesson ended.
Harry got through the day. Cassie had stuck to him like glue. Harry was relieved his notes were in English. Harry did not get to sit next to Cassie at Lunch or Supper. The boys ate with boys and girls ate with girls.
First night in Durmstrang and his nocturnal adventure was to attach his blood to the wards. He'd transfigured the Hand of Glory, specifically for this. The Hand would open doors to him. He'd memorized the route he was going to take and had a back up plan, just in case. The operation went smoothly. The Hand of Glory worked as advertised. Harry's mum's notes on blood wards also worked like a charm. Harry smiled at his own joke. He thanked his mother.
Harry return to the dorm to find Cassie waiting for him. A very naked Cassie.
"Hello, Harry," Cassie said, face looking at the ground. "Thanks for your help today."
"You're welcome, Cassie. You're the last person I expected to see here." Harry avoided mentioning the fact she was starkers.
"I don't know what I'd have done, if you hadn't been here. My German is not up to scratch."
"Nor's mine. I'd teach you the spell, but I cast it silently and wandless. Did you expect to be here?"
"No, I was down for Beauxbatons, but my grandfather insisted I come here."
"Was he a Knight of Walpurgis?"
"Yes. How did you know?"
"It explains the evil eye every time I visited you. Now, why are you naked?" Harry asked.
"I'm the supplicant. Knight's teachings. I knew who you were, but I never told you."
"Does your grandfather know Arthur Weasley?"
"The so-called muggle expert who cannot say 'electricity'? Yes, said he went to school with him. That's impossible, right?"
"Totally," Harry agreed. "You're my friend, not a supplicant. You do look nice, though."
"Thanks. I am pretty, though not the prettiest and that boy, Gunther, in our pod, can only be described as gorgeous and I saw seventh year boys checking him out."
"Checking him out?" Harry enquired.
"As in wanting to have sex with him."
"Oh. That will be a problem," Harry said. Older Harry had spent four years at Hogwarts and had no idea about sex. He'd had Malfoy come over to his bench every night after dinner. Creevey trying to take his photo every opportunity, his personal stalker in Ginny Weasley and then there was Hermione who couldn't have made her interest more obvious unless she had told him. Perhaps, Hermione had done that the night they rescued Sirius and Buckbeak. Ron wasn't snoring. Older Harry said RON ALWAYS SNORED, when asleep. That meant he wasn't asleep and had made Harry and Hemione forget. Said? Older Harry's memories. So, sue him.
So, Harry kissed Cassie, on the lips. A quick peck, really. Older Harry really had been clueless. Cassie smiled. Harry needed to check Gellert's list of Magical British Knights of Walpurgis. He needed a full list. Dumbledore had reported it destroyed. Harry automatically distrusted anything Dumbledore had said. He'd set his own brother up with a goat to discredit anything he said to attack his brother. Harry hoped two things. The first was that Dumbledore did not have a soul anchor and second that he had not stayed behind as a ghost. Older Harry's memories had Myrtle telling Harry that she'd haunted a witch into an early death. Well that was a cheery memory to fall asleep to.
Hermione Granger received Harry's gifts and his letter. She noticed her school cloak had a new crest on it. She'd seen it before. She thought about where. Nothing came. She would research Harry's family. She used Hedwig to ask her parents to start two genealogical requests for the family of Lily Evans and Harry James Potter. She took what Harry said about her answering questions and essay length with a bit of a humph. She was a bit intimidated about approaching Harry's friends, but she did.
"Heir Longbottom, Lord Potter tasked me with getting a Map that was his father's off the Weasley twins. He asked for your help in doing this."
"Proctectee Granger, Lord Potter asked us to guide you in wizarding etiquette. We're more than willing to do that," Neville replied.
"Your defence of Lord Potter was noted," Lady Susan Bones said. "Particularly the advanced spells you used. Who taught you them?"
"Dumbledore. I think he would have told me to use the spell against Lord Potter. He seems to have wanted to keep Lord Potter in the dark about everything," Hermione said, dispiritedly. "You and Heir Longbottom have Regents, why doesn't Harry?"
"It's quite alright for you to use our first names, Hermione," Heir Greengrass said. "Harry's asked us to treat you as a friend. The lack of a Regent is most troubling. The only reason he would not is that Lord James Potter did not know that he was the Lord, when he drew up his will. That's Line Theft and means Harry was well within his rights to kill Dumbledore. I, for one, do not believe that Harry is possessed. He told me and Tracey to leave the Great Hall as soon as we'd finished dinner, so that we did not see the battle."
"Something tried to possess him," Hannah said. "And failed."
"As for being possessed, Harry wants every Death Eater dead. He's not possessed. I've no explanation as to where Harry got his power or skills. He's got a second wand. No trace on that one." Neville said.
"Dumbledore taught me the spell to remove the trace," Hermione said.
"Bloody Hell, Hermione," Neville almost shouted. "Have you any idea how illegal that is?"
"Yes. I researched the laws," Hermione said.
"You do research?" Tracey asked.
"Yes," Hermione replied. "I've got tasks to do for Harry that require research. Looking after his owl, for one."
"We'll help with that one. None of us has an owl," Hannah said.
"Hedwig is going to be really busy," Hermione smiled. "She likes rashes of bacon." The other five also smiled.
"Harry killed 5 heirs to Wizengamot seats in Slytherin's first year. They were Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, Bulstrode and Parkinson and like us three heirs to noble and most ancient houses and two noble houses. Had Harry been sorted into Slytherin, we'd have had 8 of the Wizengamot seats. With his friendship with the three of you, he could have built a powerbase of 11 Wizengamot seats out of it 50 seats. In fact, Harry's got another three Wizengamot seats, too," Daphne said.
"Harry's allied to House Black, too," Tracey added. "They've claims on the Houses of Crouch, Lestrange and Rosier; all with seats on the Wizengamot. They've claims on the now extinct House Malfoy. Rich, but not on the Wizengamot.
"My family has claims on the Rosier House through my grandmother," Neville said.
"That's 18 seats and enough to block any change to Laws requiring a two-thirds majority," Daphne said. "There's another heir in our year," Daphne said. "Ernie MacMillan. And Harry would have access to the vast cash reserves of House Malfoy."
"My mother is wondering how Ernie got Sorted into Hufflepuff. Her letter described his family as a money-grabbing greedy 'swearword' that is overly stuck up because a family member became Muggle Prime Minister," Susan said. Susan and Hannah no longer wore their hair braided after overhearing Lavender Brown saying how childish they looked.
Hermione sent her letter off to her parents. She was pleased that she had been accepted. She hoped that Harry was alright. The others had said that they'd give her their letters to send on Saturday, after her wizarding etiquette lesson.
Hermione knew magic depended on the intent behind a spell, the correct wand movements and the forceful speaking of the words. When she was presented with her first flying lesson, all this knowledge flew out of the window. There was something unnatural about sitting astride a broom and flying. She could not put falling off out of her mind. The school brooms did not look that well put together. She heard some classmates complaining that they were over 50 years old. By the end of the first session, Hermione had got her broom to rise to her hand and mounted it and rose to about ten feet. She counted that as a success.
Harry's week at Durmstrang was going well. The teachers were no worse than those at Hogwarts from the memories older Harry had imparted. Harry had succeeded in adding his blood to the wards. He had not been caught out and no-one knew, as far as he knew. He had successfully brewed the language potion. How long it would last was anyone one's guess. Third night out, Harry saw Gunther's door open. He entered.
Gunther was in foetal position and naked. He had smears of a substance on his body. Harry cleaned those up. He then ran his hands over Gunther's flesh. Harry thought he was comforting Gunther. Gunther, who stirred, thought something else.
"What happened?" Harry asked. He knew he was speaking German, but he heard everything in English. Gunther started kissing Harry. For the next half an hour Harry learnt that Gunther was a very good kisser. Gunther was apparently satiated.
"I was used by Willem, a seventh year. He was not interested in kissing or cuddling. I am interested in him, for this year. I've got my eye on a sixth year for next year. Thereafter, you, Harry."
"If I am still here," Harry said. He wanted Gunther to keep talking.
"There's something I would like you to do for me." Gunther said.
"Yes," Harry said, wanting to know what Gunther was going to ask.
"Talk to Willem and let him know what I want."
"Okay, Gunther. I'll do that," Harry said.
"There's something else. I'm here under my mother's name rather than my father. It's Grindelwald. He has quite a history at Durmstrang."
That was true. Harry knew from what Grindelwald had said and written that he had killed all those who had used him; pupils, teachers and adults. Durmstrang had expelled him. Then he'd fallen for Albus Dumbledore and had his head filled with the Greater Good and his natural destiny to rule wizards and muggles. Now that was ironic. Harry knew that the war against Grindelwald and his Knights of Walpurgis had reduced the population of wizards and witches in magical Britain to a tenth of what it had been at the turn of the century.
Harry was relieved to be leaving. He went off to find Willem. He found him boasting about his conquest.
"Willem, Gunther wanted me to tell you that he liked what you did. There was no conquest. You weren't as good as some lovers he's had. You'll need to do better."
Willem's friends laughed at him. Harry had done what he could for Gunther. He could feel good. He might have an 'in' to the Knights of Walpurgis and be able to thwart them, should that be needed. Unlike the Death Munchers, the Knights were a Europe-wide feature.
Harry had not seen Karkarof, the Death Eater target and Headmaster of Durmstrang. Karkorof was a coward. Harry's dealings with the top people were all handled by the Deputy, Professor Eversham. Harry had survived his first week at Durmstrang. He had made Cassie the language potion. She was pleased. She had been struggling. She wrote home about Harry Potter's arrival. He told her parents that he was helping her. Cassie passed on Harry's strange request to her grandfather about Arthur Weasley.
Harry was on passable terms with the rest of his pod. Gunther was friendly, so that was good. He was giving Harry a boost in his standing with the others. Saturday was Quidditch tryout day. Harry made Seeker. The Beaters were Gaius and Marius, The Chasers, like the Gryffindor team, were all girls: Margo, Gina and Serena. The Keeper was Paul. If they wanted to play the second years, they'd have to beat all the other 7 pods in their year.
Hermione had enjoyed her Wizarding Etiquette session with Harry's friends. Well, 'enjoyed' might be the wrong word, but Hermione did like learning new things. She did not see why Wizards did certain things, but she could fit in. The others handed in their letters to Hermione. Hermione despatched Hedwig to deliver them.
Hedwig liked delivering letters, as much for the bacon rashes she got as from the flying. She delivered the letters, waiting for a reply before going on to the next person. After Hedwig had 5 letters to return, she went to Hermione's home to wait for her parents to reply to Hermione's earlier letter. It was all part of the post owl repertoire that had been drilled into her.
Hermione handed out the five replies to each of her friends, now. She finished her Sunday breakfast. It was the one day of the week, when she ate a full English breakfast. She returned to her room to read her parents reply.
Dear Hermione,
What a lovely owl your friend Harry has. She does like her rashes of bacon! We've sent off your requests for the family tree information for the Potters and Evans. We decide to make that your birthday present for this year. We also decided to put a request in for the Grangers and Sloanes. If the family trees are provided before Christmas, it will give us all a chance to review them.
Your Grandmother has requested that we spend Christmas with her. So that will make a change from our usual skiing trip to the French Alps.
We're pleased that you are making friends at your new school.
Your parents
Hermione had been hoping for Hogwarts: A History that her allowance had not stretched to buy as her birthday present. It had been two or three years since she had seen her grandmother. She was pleased about that. The letter was longer than normal, if not particularly affectionate. That was par for the course. Her parents had started writing to her from her tenth birthday. If she wanted to talk to them, she had to schedule a meeting. She'd got quite good at schedules and lists, as a result.
Harry had settled down in a study session with Cassie on Sunday morning. They'd done this for three years at primary school. They were using one of the classrooms their pod used for lessons. It was natural. At lunch, the other six members of Harry's quidditch team asked him what he'd been doing. Harry told them.
Paul was the captain. He wanted to do some training that evening. Harry's pod was pod 8. Harry suspected it was the weakest. Their first game was against pod 2 and their second against pod 1. Durmstrang had 7 quidditch pitches.
Since Hogwarts had risen to 4th out of 11 International Schools, all those in positions 5-11 had revamped the curriculum, changed how they taught the curriculum and, in some cases, had recruited new staff.
Unlike Hogwarts which taught 7 base subjects and 5 electives, Durmstrang taught those subjects as base, for all seven years. There were also compulsory special subjects in flying and wizarding etiquette for those who did not grow up with magic. Magical theory was integrated within each subject.