The Unspeakable Harry Dursley

The Dursleys are less cardboard cutout evil, though they still manage to make Harry unable to have healthy relationships. As a result, Harry grows up less heroic (at least in his own mind). But heroism is about what you do, not why you do it. Voldemort's resurrection is delayed until after Harry graduates Hogwarts. Oh, and Harry's a Slytherin.

I am not certain who I will ship Harry with. It will be either Hermione, Ginny or Daphne.

Feel free to share your opinions.

Added Sept 9: Ok, the votes are in, and people want Harry / Daphne. That will be a long trip to get there, so buckle up but don't forget to go to the bathroom first.

*UHD*

Start Story

Harry strolled down the tree shaded path heading into Oxford University. It was graduation weekend, and all the paths were filled with students, former students and parent. Suddenly he spotted a woman in a graduation robe at the far end of the path waving animatedly to him. He turned and hurried over. "Congratulations, Hermione!" He handed her the small bouquet of flowers and gave her a quick hug. That was not something that he used to feel comfortable doing, but he knew physical contact was important to Hermione, and he hadn't been a Slytherin for nothing.

"I'm so glad you were able to make it!" Hermione held the hug a moment longer then was completely proper. "The magical department graduation is this way. Hurry – it starts in less than an hour, and it's a long walk!" She turned and walked through a shadowed archway, and then took a immediate left into the wall, which rippled around her like water as she passed. If a muggle tried that, they would be in for a bruised nose. As she walked, she hugged her arms around her.

"Cold?"

She nodded, "it's a little nippy, and I didn't think to wear a sweater under my graduation gown."

"Here," Harry slipped a bracelet off of his arm and handed it to her. "I just bought this – it's got an adjustable warming charm, and it will keep the rain off of you as well." Harry was still getting used to the idea that he had money (well, a salary. And most people wouldn't think of it as anything grand), and that he didn't have to wear second hand clothes all the time.

"Thanks. I'll get it back to you after graduation," She smiled at him. The smile slid off her face as she turned a corner.

Hermione stopped in a shock. Floating like some sort of magical graffiti was a skull with a snake coiling out from under it. The snake hissed, its eyes gleaming with menace.

Harry quickly cast a diagnostic charm on it from behind Hermione. 'It's the same.'

"This is the third one this month!" Hermione dispelled it with a swish of her wand, "And it's always on routs that muggle-born or others that enter the muggle parts of the university use."

"Hmm. It uses dark magic to inspire fear. It's not a very nice spell." Harry paused to consider, "I am not supposed to talk abut it, but but the Aurors have called on me several times to identify these."

Hermione purses her lips. "It's disgusting is what it is. And it's harassment." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, "But I am not going to worry abut that today."

As they continued walking, Harry attempted to distract Hermione, "Are you ready to step out of academia out into the wider world?" He asked, following her lead down a grassy lane behind what looked like a dormitory.

"I… Not so much. I'm kind of nervous" Hermione strode confidently through the back way of the university, "I actually considered staying on and going the professor route, but there is so much that I want to change about the Wizarding world that I can't from in here. Besides, you seem to be doing OK out there. Though I'm still a little surprised that the Department of Mysteries doesn't require a uni degree. This way – the guests go in through here - my parents are already here." The last was added as she held open a door for Harry. Hermione was still prone to stressing about deadlines.

"Yeah, sorry I'm late – work stuff." Harry shrugged nonchalantly. He was used to Hermione stressing over schedules. "And not everybody in the DoM is working on inventing new spells. The department has several sub sections, including one on forensic magic, where they work with Aurors at crimes scenes, identifying people and spells." This was 100% true. But this was not the section that Harry was in. The third type of 'Unspeakable' in the Ministry of Magic were the ones that investigated things in other countries. Usually without permission. It was the Wizarding equivalent of the muggle MI6. "There is even one office that is studying weather manipulation. Recently, they have gotten good enough at it so that they have hired a guy who's job it is to make sure that it never rains on major quidditch matches."

Hermione smiled and rolled her eyes, ignoring Harry's last comment, though she appreciated his efforts to distract her from her anxiety. "Is that were you saw that snake thing? What were you investigating, or can you not say?"

"Yeah. It was a muggle-baiting case, but the higher ups are worried that its not just an isolated incident." This was true. But the incident took place in Belgium, and the victim wasn't muggle – they were a muggle-born wizard, fresh out of Hogwarts. And the 'unique spell construct' had been showing up more and more often. Like here at Oxford.

"Ok, I have got to go line up. I'll see you after. My parents are taking me to lunch. Do you want to come?" Hermione asked casually, but her face gave her away.

Harry weighed the pros and cons. Harry had built his life around the idea of equivalent exchange, because the Dursley had taught him that nothing in life was free, and in the end, you always had to pay for anything you took.

Harry didn't want to owe Hermione and her parents too much, but what with her exams, they hadn't talked in a couple of weeks and… "Sure, that sounds great!" He could cover his part of the tab. Government employees didn't get paid terribly well, but having spent his childhood with the Dursleys, he was used to living frugally, so his pay was starting to accumulate at least a little.

And Hermione really wanted him to come.

*UHD*

Harry was sitting awkwardly next to Hermione in the 'cozy' (restaurant-speak for small and crowded) muggle bistro as her father told some story from her childhood. He smiled at the appropriate moments, but it honestly wasn't that interesting. Though given the glassy smile on Hermione's face she found it mildly embarrassing. Or possibly her father was boring her as well. Suddenly his Department of Mysteries Warrant card grew warm. He pulled it out and glanced at it like a cell phone. "Sorry folk, but work calls. I got to go."

He stood up quickly, dropping a 20 pound note on the table to cover his meal.

"You don't have to pay," began Dan Granger, but Harry shrugged and kept walking,

"Sorry, I can't dawdle!"

As he walked out, he heard in the distance Dan asking, "What does Harry do again? Is he a cop of some sort?" And Hermione reply "He's a forensic technician." Before adding defensively, "It's an important job, and the work is very reliable!"

Once out of sight, Harry slowed down and stepped into an ally where he activated his Unspeakable disguise spell before apparating to one of the entryways to the Ministry.

Honestly, the call was more an excuse than an emergency: he had felt like a fifth wheel at that table - Hermione was one of his closest friends, but he never knew what to say to her parents. And all those awkward questions about his plans for the future… Hermione was the one that had just graduated, not him! And the seating! It had been so tight that Hermione was forced to practically lean against him. He made his way down to the Department of Mysteries and in through the door labeled 'Magical Weather'.

Inside was an office with several cluttered desks, two of which was occupied. One of the people there was Simon – he actually did work on magically weather (control thereof, not prediction. They weren't muggles).

Harry turned to face the other. Sylvester Jacobs (his boss) looked up from the report he was reading with a scowl. Jacobs didn't like him – specifically, he doesn't like that Harry was a full field agent at 21. In his opinion, that was at least 5 years too early.

Harry suppressed a smile. He didn't care what Jacobs thought of him - that pixie-dust bust earned him his status.

"What's the situation?" Harry asked as he entered.

"A UK magical disappeared near Calais, in France." He handed Harry a file, "You have contacts there, so I'm pulling you off the dummy detail," - that was what they called doing forensics for the Aurors - "and sending you to investigate. Coordinate with the French Aurors when have something."

Harry took the file and nodded. He did indeed have contacts in France. Harry went to collect a port-key for Calais-nord-magique, in the north of France.

*UHD*

The magical part of Calais was pretty small by continental standards, but still big compared to most outlying communities in the UK. The streets were narrow but clean, and the houses all very well maintained, with planters of flowers magically attached to the walls. The building that Harry stopped in front of was a three story brownstone, of the sort that affluent families favored as a 'townhouse'.

A moment later the door swung open and a statuesque blond women in a form fitting evening gown stepped forward to meet him, "Back so soon, Harry?" Daphne LeStrange ran a hand over Harry's chest appreciatively before stepping in for an (unchaste) kiss.

Harry waived nervously towards the street. "Somebody could see".

"Don't worry yourself – our privacy charms extend all the way to the street. And they are very strong." She kissed him again, "Alexander values discretion." She pulled him inside and the door slammed shut behind them on its own as neither one was paying it the least bit of attention. Harry picked Daphne up and carried her up to the bedroom without ever disengaging from her lips.

*UHD*

The following morning Harry made his way down to the kitchen to find Daphne sipping a cup of tea. "The house elves have prepared some English-style toast and eggs as well as the usual croissants," she gestured without looking up from the society page of the newspaper. As Harry served himself, she added, "I overheard that Alex will be in Durrës all this week. He's probably meeting with his supplier." Alexander LeStrange was a major source of the drugs flowing into the UK. "I think that's in Albania," she added as she took another sip. He was also Daphne's husband.

Harry nodded as he sat down with his toast. "If you just let me arrest him the next time we bust his ring, you won't have to deal with a divorce." Last time he had raised the idea of divorce, it had resulted in an hour long screaming match (well, he had mostly replied in monosyllables. Daphne did all the screaming).

Daphne looked up angrily, "I told, don't you dare do anything to my husband!"

"When was the last time he was home? And when he was, did he actually spend any time with you?"

"That is how marriage works in the Wizarding world. It's not about love or any of those stupid muggle ideas. It's all about prestige and position." She refilled her cup, "You know nothing about pureblood families. It would be a scandal!"

"A worse scandal than the fact that Alex liked you better when you were ten?"

Daphne slapped him.

For a moment she considered dumping her coffee over his head as well, but decided that would be too much. Instead she carefully put the cup down and pivoted with a swirl of robes that would have done Severus Snape proud and stormed out and up the stairs. Harry heard her bedroom door slam shut.

Harry sighed. He still remembered when he learned that Daphne was engaged – it was at one of Slughorn's 'Slug Club' parties, when the professor had introduced the then 29 year old Alexander as Daphne's fiance. Turns out that her parents had engaged her to him before she started Hogwarts, as a way to encourage her to stay 'chaste' until marriage (the penalty clause in the betrothal contract saw to that).

Unfortunately, talking to her about it was impossible - the only time Daphne opened up was when she was angry. The rest of the time she was cool, self possessed and emotionally withdrawn.

And talking to an angry Daphne wasn't productive, and more than a little scary. Harry wasn't some Gryffindor, ready to beard a dragon in its lair.

'Might as well make the most of the opportunity.' With nobody to observe him, Harry walked over to the the study and cast a series of detection charms. A glow came from behind a tapestry hanging on the wall over the love seat. From his previous visits, he knew that there was a safe behind it.

Harry took out his ministry issue Time Turner and gave it a quick twist. Its maximum range was two hours, but that was sufficient for his purpose.

The light in the room changed angle, and the sounds of vigorous lovemaking drifted down from upstairs. Harry smirked as he got to work on opening the safe.

Inside was a small ledger marked 'Zombi' and an odd device, like a stubby, gnarled wand. Harry carefully didn't touching anything, instead casting a series of diagnostic charms. Under the charms, the wand gave off an oddly familiar sense of foreboding. It was clearly magical, and probably not the good kind. Harry avoided touching it as he lifted out the small book. It was mostly blank, with just the first page filled with dates and numbers. Harry had no idea what the numbers meant, but the dates started just three months ago. Harry made sure to take a good look, so he could reconstruct the page in a pensive, and then put it back and closed the safe.

He then gave his time turner a twist in the other direction. Harry's time turner was a new model, that could return him back to his starting time as well. He staggered as he returned. 'It's a good thing I only had toast'. The one draw back was that the trip back always made him nauseous.

Harry returned to the kitchen and drank Daphne's cup of tea to calm his stomach. He glanced up the stairs. 'There's no talking to her when she's like this'. He grabbed his coat and let himself out, whistling cheerfully.

All in all it, it had been a good morning. And night. He smiled.

Harry knew that he should feel guilty about his relationship with Daphne, and if he ever told his step-parents about it, they would be horrified (not that it would ever happen, as he wasn't planning to visit the Dursleys ever again, mind you) but this was the first time anybody has actually cared for him, so he can't bring himself to give it up. Besides, Alex was an ass-hat.

*UHD*

Meanwhile, in a room paneled in dark woods and set with rich furnishings, Voldemort sat at a grand desk as he took his time reading over a report before looking up at the man waiting patiently in front of him. "Yes, that will be acceptable. Let us begin"