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batsutousaiTitle: Abandoned: The Re-Write
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: M/R
Main Pairing: Harry/Tom, Harry/Voldemort
Side Pairings: Ginny/Theodore Nott, Seamus/Blaise Zabini, past-Ron/Hermione, Hermione/Luna, others
Warnings: SLASH, mentions of child abuse/rape/torture, language, character death, minor Dumbledore bashing, Grey-to-Dark!Harry
Summary: A complete re-write of Abandon: Before the start of his seventh year, Harry Potter is abandoned in London by his muggle family and finds himself befriending Lord Voldemort.
A/N: Back in 2004, I started writing a fic on a whim, not expecting much to come of it. Even now, I'm impressed that Abandon was so well received. *grins* Especially considering how improbable the premise was.
A couple of years ago, I got it into my head that I should re-write Abandon chapter-by-chapter, but that never really got anywhere. (It's hard to spice up what's already written, even if does need it. And it does. *shame*)
In October of 2010, it came to me that I should just start from scratch, rather than tackling what already exists. In this fic, I hope to make the original premise more probable, but I'm going to try staying true to the original at the same time. It should be a fun challenge. XD (A list of the major changes is at the bottom of this chapter.)
Related, because this is a rewrite of a fic that was completed before Half-Blood Prince was released, it is not canon to HBP or DH. So, you won't be seeing any horcruxes popping up, nor the deathly hallows. That said, I may take some things (character histories, Death Eater names, etc) from those books, just to fill in some holes that I bullshat my way past the first time around. XP
Why call this fic Abandoned? Wasn't the original called just Abandon?
LOL. About half of the reviews I get for Abandon these days make the title past tense. I'm always torn between laughing and crying when I get one of those reviews. I figure, if the readers think the title should be past tense, who am I to deny them? So, here you go, luvs.
The awesome SharaLunison and magickmaker17/ArrghAmy kindly beta'd this fic for me. They're also the ones who occasionally prodded me, asking when I was going to work on it more, so many, many kudos to the pair of them.
This fic is NOT complete and very likely will never be. Tbh, I do kinda like the rewrite, but I've spent years trying to find the energy to continue working on it, and nothing. So I figured I'd share it. However, BECAUSE it's incomplete it will only be posted on LJ and DW. (& if people start getting obnoxious about my continuing it, I'll take it down.)
There are 20 chapters completed, and this will update every other day until they're all up.
This chapter covers chapters one and two in the original. It's been expanded on a bit and some research was done to make it more realistic.
Also, many of the complaints I got in the early chapters of Abandon had to do with Hedwig being left at the Dursleys, so that's changed in this version.
The 'prequel' I wrote, covering Harry's 6th year, can be found on LiveJournal, Dreamwidth, or Archive of Our Own.
Chapter One: Abandoned in London
-0-
"Hey, freak, come here."
Harry rolled his eyes and kept focussed on the bed of flowers he was weeding. Dudley and his mates might have nothing better to do than stand around and beat on unsuspecting brats in the playground, but Harry had chores to do during the day and reading after dinner; after the attack at Hogwarts a month ago, Mad-Eye had given Harry a pile of reading to do and told the teen to contact him once he was done. (Surprisingly, all but one of the books were on Dark magic, and most of them were illegal. Harry had given his mentor an odd look, but after Harry's public use of a Dark spell, he figured he might as well read up on others; even if most of the wizarding world didn't know that Harry knew some Dark magic, the Death Eaters did.)
"Freak, I'm talking to you," Dudley said and Harry sensed his cousin walking closer.
"I have a name, Dudley," Harry replied drily. "I'm more inclined to respond when people use it."
"Your name is Freak," Dudley returned and reached out to grab Harry's shoulder, but the smaller boy was already rolling away.
Harry cocked an eyebrow at his cousin. "Seriously? My birth certificate seems to think my name is Harry. But, hey! I've been wrong before." He smiled at that and revelled in the chance to taunt someone.
He'd been spending far too much time with Mad-Eye.
Dudley seemed momentarily thrown by Harry's easy rejoinder, but he shook himself of the shock quickly enough and came at Harry again, this time with anger in his eyes. "You think you're so funny," he spat as Harry ducked his reaching hand again. "I'll show you funny. Last summer was funny."
Harry froze for a breath, sick at the reminder of what Dudley and his mates had done last summer, but he shoved the memories into the mental box he usually kept them in and tore his arm out of Dudley's grasp. "Funny was the eighteen people I killed last month," Harry snarled. "Do you want me to make it nineteen? Shove off!"
Dudley quickly put some space between them, scared by the glint in his cousin's eyes. He'd never killed anyone himself – he wasn't sure he could – but there'd been a boy who lived down the road for a while who'd killed his girlfriend, and his eyes...
Well, it was one thing to joke about Harry being a criminal; it was another thing entirely to know that his cousin could and had killed people.
Harry stepped forward, green eyes dark. "Leave me the fuck alone, Dudley."
Dudley nodded once, then turned and fled.
Harry took a deep breath and rubbed absently at his scar. It had stopped burning as much part-way through the school year, but it still acted up now and again. It had burned horribly after the attack, and Harry knew Voldemort must have been furious that most of the group he'd sent to the school had been killed, even without Dumbledore in attendance.
Harry shook himself and turned back to the flowerbed; he had better things to do right that moment than wonder about Voldemort.
When Harry got up to his room after he'd finished cleaning up the dinner dishes, he found a couple of letters waiting for him on his desk. He flipped through them, smiling. Remus, Neville, and Ginny had all written to him. A part of him cried for the lack of letters from Ron and Hermione, but they were the only two students who knew that he'd used a Dark spell to kill all of the Death Eaters; he didn't expect to hear anything from them any time soon.
Harry smiled to himself while he read. Remus usually wrote about many of the pranks he, Sirius, and James had played in school, as well as the crazy things the members of the Order of the Phoenix did. It was through Remus that he'd learnt that McGonagall, Flitwick, and Snape hadn't told the Order about Harry's use of Dark magic. Or, really, it was more that Remus hadn't mentioned or questioned Harry's actions that told Harry what had and hadn't been said about the attack.
Ginny would complain about various pranks the twins were playing when they visited and how quiet Ron was being. She also complained, occasionally, about her most recent boyfriend, a Hufflepuff in her year named Mark. On the other hand, she was far more familiar with the other students in the DA than Harry had ever been – the difference between a member and the leader, most likely – so she was also able to report back about how various people were handling the attack outside of school. For the most part, the Gryffindors were grumpy that they hadn't been in on the action more, the Hufflepuffs were split between having nightmares every night and taking everything in stride, and the Ravenclaws were all a bit broken up about the deaths of two Ravenclaw upper years, but otherwise managing fine.
Every time Ginny reported on a student who was having a tough time of it, Harry would pull out some parchment and a quill and write that student a note offering an ear should they need one. He also suggested that they might look into seeing a mind healer or muggle psychologist, depending on whether their parents were muggles or wizards. The few responses he'd received had all been grateful for his support and most of them had agreed to look into seeking professional aid, much to Harry's relief. Not everyone could just let the deaths of eighteen Death Eaters and two fellow students in their Great Hall go like Harry could.
(He knew – from Ginny, mostly – that those who'd gone with him to the Ministry last year had all been taken by their parents to see mind healers or – in Hermione's case – a psychologist with ties to the magical world. From the sounds of things, they'd all gone back again as soon as they'd returned home. Harry would never have been able to go see a specialist, since the Dursleys would have never even considered it, and it wasn't safe for Harry to travel alone to St Mungo's, so he had been forced to find his own way to deal with the horrors Voldemort inflicted on his life.)
Neville's letters often spoke fondly of his greenhouse, but he also wrote of his childhood, which was shadowed by his family trying to get him to perform magic by basically abusing him. Harry found himself often returning the favour in his own letters, telling his friend about cooking breakfast for the Dursleys every morning since he was four and sleeping in the cupboard under the stairs. He would mention Petunia's garden that he took care of from time to time and Neville would helpfully offer tips about caring for it.
Harry laughed at the funny parts of the letters and winced at the not-so-funny parts, then pulled out his supplies to write the three back. Remus he thanked for his comments on the Order and the subtle hints about what was going on with them. He also offered the man some stories about his fourth year and the crazy shit that went down then.
Ginny had sent him the name of a Ravenclaw girl the year below her who was having a tough time of things and who didn't have many friends, so Harry quickly penned the girl a letter offering himself as someone to talk to and suggesting she consider talking to a mind healer. To Ginny, Harry offered his thanks for the updates on the DA and sympathised with her about Ron's continued grouchiness, assuring her that he'd loosen up eventually, especially since the twins had made him their favourite target. He also suggested, for the second time by letter, that she dump Mark if the boy was such a prick.
Neville, he thanked for his latest garden-care tip, asked a question about a spell Neville had mentioned in passing, then went on to make light of the time he'd turned a teacher's hair blue and the reactions of his relatives from that mess.
As soon as he was done with his letters, he hunted down Pig, Ron's owl, and handed over Ginny's letter, then gave Hedwig the letters for Neville, Remus, and the Ravenclaw girl, smiling when she nipped his nose gently. "Yes, I know," he said and pulled out a couple of owl treats for her. Once she'd eaten them, he held open his window and leaned out it to send her off.
He stayed leaning over the edge for a long moment, enjoying the late-night breeze, then sighed and ducked back inside. He left the window open enough for an owl, in case Hedwig miraculously returned before he got up, or someone else sent him a letter. Hedwig, he knew, would wait on the Ravenclaw girl until she'd either handed over a response, or told Hedwig that there wouldn't be one, so Harry really didn't expect his owl to return until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest.
Harry considered the small pile of assignments sitting on the corner of his ramshackle desk. He'd only done his Herbology work so far, and that was because Neville had been helping him with it through letters. His Potions, Transfiguration, and Charms books were staring up at him, but he really didn't want to bother with writing those essays; the book from Mad-Eye that he was working on at the moment was... interesting. Illegal, but interesting.
He considered the homework for another moment, then shrugged and changed for bed. He'd do it another day. Tonight, he'd read.
Harry woke with the sun, smiling at the last vestiges of fond dreams from his first year. He wrapped the sense of wonder and belonging around him as he climbed out of bed and set about his morning ablutions, taking care to be quick, so he could avoid being yelled at for using too much hot water – as if the water tank wouldn't have time to refill before anyone other than Petunia got up.
Harry returned to his room to change, then stopped for a moment next to the cluster of pictures set up on a table with a bent leg next to Hedwig's empty cage. A picture from his parents' wedding showed the happy couple with Sirius and Remus, all laughing. (Peter had also been in the frame, but Harry had threatened to cut him out if he saw him, and the little rat had wisely transformed and taken to hiding behind the feet of his friends.)
Next to the wedding picture was a shot of Harry and Cedric Diggory, posing together after the second task for one of Cedric's friends. Harry hadn't been certain about getting dragged into the photo, especially since most of the Hufflepuffs had still been irritated with him for being in the tournament, but Cedric had assured him it was fine, that he wanted a photo of them, so he could show it off after he'd won. Harry had laughed at that and told him, "You'll have to get me a copy, then, so one of us actually can show it off."
The last photo was a picture he'd got off one of the older Ravenclaws of Cho and Marietta. He'd debated long and hard about whether he wanted a photo of Marietta, since she'd outed the DA two years ago, and been a Death Eater last year, but he'd ended up deciding to put it up anyway. Marietta and he may have had their differences, but she was also one more person needlessly killed in the course of this bloody war, and he would remember that.
In fact, Harry was the only person who knew about Marietta's true loyalties. Her Dark Mark had completely vanished after he'd asked it to, and Cho had been the only other person who might have known; not even Marietta's mother had appeared to have known, from what Harry had seen of her. As much as he and the elder girl had been at odds, Harry was grateful that he'd removed her Mark, if only to ease the loss of her to those who'd never known.
Harry touched the top of the picture frame with his parents and Sirius. "I miss you," he whispered and those in the frame smiled at him.
Harry turned and hurried downstairs to make breakfast for his family. He passed Petunia on his way down and she scowled at him. "You're running late," she hissed.
Harry rolled his eyes at her and had to bite back a comment on how he couldn't be late if the other two fat lugs wouldn't be up for another half hour. He could make their breakfast in just over ten minutes, thanks, and that was only because the toaster could only hold two slices at a time; Dudley and Vernon both demanded four slices of toast.
In the kitchen, Harry set about putting on the kettle for himself and Petunia. He set the coffee maker to start brewing for Vernon, while Dudley would have orange juice, which he could pour when he heard the fat boy thump out of bed. He popped two slices of bread in the toaster and clicked it down, then poked his head in the fridge to see what they had in. He grinned at what appeared to be the last of the herring roe and pulled it, the butter, and some lemons out. There wouldn't be enough for him, but he wouldn't have been allowed to have something so costly, anyway; he'd have some extra toast and an apple.
He set the skillet to heating the butter, then switched the toast out for another two pieces. Petunia came in as the teapot started whistling and Harry faintly heard one thump from the general direction of his aunt and uncle's room; Vernon was up.
"You'd best not be trying to make any of those for yourself," Petunia snapped, motioning to the roe as Harry set about pouring them both a cup of tea.
"Nope. Only making toast for myself," he assured her, snatching the milk out of the fridge and pouring a couple of drops into his own cup and almost two tablespoons into hers. He handed over her cup on his way to putting the milk away, then hurried back over to the hob, where the butter was starting to bubble.
Petunia sniffed and walked over to the table with her tea. "Good."
Harry rolled his eyes and continued working on the food, pausing to hand over Vernon's coffee when the man walked in and pour Dudley his orange juice when he heard the thump of his cousin from upstairs. Harry was just setting out the plates as Dudley walked in and the older boy frowned at him before sitting down to eat without a word.
Dudley had been rather silent and almost skittish since Harry had mentioned killing the Death Eaters two days ago. Harry was glad for the peace, but Petunia had been frowning at him more, and Harry had heard Vernon last night, demanding to know what 'nasty, freakish thing' his nephew had done to Dudley.
Petunia and Vernon traded a significant look as the latter got up to leave and Harry puzzled over it as his uncle finished getting his things together and left for work.
Dudley hurried from the room as soon as he was done eating and was out the door before Harry could fully get to his feet to clear the table.
"Are you done, Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked, hand hovering over her plate.
Petunia nodded, so Harry added her plate to the pile of dishes, then walked them all over to the dishwasher, which he set about loading. He was almost done when she called, "The living room needs a dusting, then you're going out with me."
Harry blinked in surprise and glanced over his shoulder at his aunt, who was watching him over her teacup. Her hand on the cup shook slightly and he raised an eyebrow at it. She scowled at him and used her other hand to help steady the cup. Harry shrugged and turned back to the dishwasher. "Okay."
Petunia was still sitting at the table when Harry left the kitchen to get the cleaning supplies.
An hour later, Harry and Petunia were climbing into the second car that was almost never driven; it was something of an unspoken rule of the Dursley household that, if you needed to go anywhere, you took the newer car and Vernon, the man of the house, drove it. But there were days when Petunia needed to go shopping while Vernon was at work, such as today, so they had an extra car that was kept in the garage.
Petunia drove them into London, much to Harry's confusion. It took her a while to find a viable parking space, but once she had, she pulled into it and looked over at Harry. "Out."
Harry blinked in surprise. "Oh, uhm..." He glanced around at the shops nearby, trying to guess why they were in London. "Why are we–"
"Out, boy," Petunia demanded again.
Harry looked back at her and took in her tight expression, the fear in her eyes, and the way she clutched the steering wheel like it was a safety blanket. Harry closed his eyes and nodded. "You could have just told me to leave," he pointed out. "Now I'll have to come back and get my stuff."
"Out," she insisted. "You can send for your things."
Harry sighed and climbed out of the car. As soon as he closed the door, the car ducked back into the traffic and sped away as quickly as possible in the heavy traffic.
Harry slipped his hands in his pockets and started walking down the pavement, falling in with other pedestrians and keeping his head down. A part of him was furious that they'd left him out in the city with nothing, but a much larger part of him understood their reaction; he'd basically threatened to kill their son if he didn't leave Harry alone. He'd already killed, so what was to stop him from losing it and swinging a lamp at their heads if they yelled at him one too many times?
Fuck it all. Fuck them. Harry reached up and rubbed absently at his scar. I need a place to stay. Not Grimmauld Place. The Leaky is too dangerous, but maybe a muggle hotel? He reached into his pocket and pulled out his money pouch. He had not quite ten galleons and a tenner. There's no way that's enough to pay for a hotel room. Bugger.
A memory came to him of Dean telling Seamus, Neville, and himself about a trip his family had taken over last summer out of the country. Harry couldn't remember where on the continent the Thomas family had gone, but he did remember that Dean had said they'd stayed in a hostel, since it was so much cheaper.
Cheaper is something I might be able to afford. Harry grinned to himself and shoved his pouch back into his pockets. He started keeping an eye out for a hostel, hoping it wouldn't be too hard to find one. He also kept his eyes peeled for something he knew, since he had no clue where the hell he was. He'd only been in London a few times, and the area wasn't familiar.
He found a hostel before he found a map or landmark to help him orient himself. After a moment spent trying to flatten his fringe enough to hide his tell-tale scar, Harry walked into the building, glancing around curiously.
"Can I help you?" a woman who didn't look much older than Harry called from behind a desk situated next to some stairs.
Harry nodded and walked up to her. "Uhm, yeah. I was wondering if I could get a room for a couple months? My family sort of kicked me out..." He shrugged.
The woman grimaced. "You're not the first," she assured him. "Have you got any money to pay for a room?"
"Uh...about ten quid," Harry admitted. "I've more in my bank account, but..." He shrugged again, letting her draw her own conclusions to that statement. He couldn't very well tell her that he couldn't get to his account because it was too dangerous for him to traverse Diagon Alley without some sort of disguise.
"Would you be willing to work for your stay?" the woman asked.
Work for my stay? I can do that? Harry felt himself smiling and nodded. "Yeah. No problem."
The woman smiled. "You haven't even asked to see what sort of work it might be."
Harry shook his head. "Yeah? Go on, then."
"Cleaning toilets?"
"Done that."
"Cleaning sheets that have been thrown up on, pissed in, or had marathon sex on."
"Done all that."
The woman blinked. "Seriously?"
Harry grimaced. "Well, I'm not certain about the last, but I've had to do the sheets from my cousin's room after he had the flu at least once."
The woman snorted and shook her head. "My sympathies. Well, if it really doesn't bother you, then, sure. We just lost one of our two housekeepers. You help keep the place clean and you stay for free. The hostel can cover one meal a day, but anything else is on your own tab. Some of the other residents are willing to share food, though, if you get on their good side."
Harry nodded. "Cool. Sounds like a plan."
The woman smiled and grabbed a key from under the desk. "I'm Becca, by the way."
"Harry."
Becca stepped out from behind the desk. "Come on, I'll show you your room." She glanced around him with a faint frown, then asked, "You don't have any stuff?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "No. I was brought into the city under false pretences."
Becca sighed and started up the stairs, Harry following. "Figures. Any chance you'll be getting your things? I mean, there should be some spare clothing you can borrow, but..."
Harry nodded. "Yeah. My aunt said I can send for it once I'm 'settled'."
"At least that's something. Most of the kids who are abandoned without their stuff don't get it back." Becca stopped in front of a door and opened it with the key to show a mostly bare room with an unmade bed, a worn dresser, and a table. There was a partially open door on the far side of the room that led to a tiny toilet. "Well, here's your new place for the next couple months. Which reminds me, how long is a 'couple months'?"
Harry grinned. "I'm going back to boarding school on September first."
"Ooh, boarding school. Aren't you special?" Becca shook her head. "You still going to be able to afford it without your family helping?"
Harry snorted. "The tuition comes out of a trust fund my parents left me. If my aunt and uncle had their way, I'd be going to something a bit more local."
"Well, that's something. Here." Becca held out the key to the room and shut the door, then motioned for Harry to follow her down the hall. "Everyone on this floor is a long-term resident and works for their room. At the end of the hall, through the archway, is our common area. There's a telly in there, a bookcase with some books which are free to read, and a couple of board games. The kitchen's also in there. If something's got a name on it, let it be. Anything without a name is free game.
"My room is right here," she continued, pointing to a door down the hall from Harry's room. "If you need anything, feel free to knock. I'm down at the desk during the day, Monday through Thursday. That door down there leads to the showers, and it is used by everyone on the hall, so take care not to go wandering about naked, unless you want the ladies ogling your bits."
Harry flushed and grimaced when Becca laughed at him. "Does anyone ever walk about in there naked?"
"Virgin eyes?" Becca teased, laughing again when Harry turned redder. "Nah, everyone's pretty good about covering up in there. Bill – he's in the room next to the common – sometimes gets smashed and wanders around the hall nude, but it's easy enough to get him to go back in his room, so it's not much of a problem."
Harry sighed and nodded. "Okay."
Becca snorted and covered a smile with her hand. "You want me to introduce you around, or do you think you'll be fine on your own?"
Harry shrugged. "Uhm... Sure? Might as well meet people now, right?"
"Good man," Becca replied, then set about knocking on doors.
Harry called the Dursleys that evening from one of the public phones in the communal area next to the front desk. Vernon had been short, as usual, but had agreed to bring Harry's trunk by the hostel in an hour. Harry hung out by the front desk with Becca, talking about the businesses around the hostel, until the large man shoved through the front door and dropped Harry's trunk on the ground.
"Don't you dare come back to my house," the man snapped as soon as he saw Harry.
Harry rolled his eyes and stepped forward to grab his trunk. "Yeah, yeah."
Vernon reached out and grabbed Harry by the collar. "Don't be so flippant with me, freak!"
Harry narrowed his eyes. "Unhand me right now."
Realisation dawned and Vernon snatched his hand away, as if burned, then hustled out the front door.
"He's terrified of you," the evening desk clerk, Zack, observed from the stairs.
"What can I say? I'm just that cool," Harry replied with a grin.
Zack grinned back and hopped down the last couple steps. "Wicked. Let me help you with that." They leant down and, together, hefted the trunk. "Damn, kid, what the hell've you got in here? Rocks?"
"Books." Harry rolled his eyes. "Surely you've heard of them before. Made of paper? Have words in them?"
"Just because I don't read doesn't mean I can't, you prat."
Harry snickered.
Once Zack had left to relieve Becca, Harry was left wondering what to do with his things. He didn't want to chance putting a bunch of magical things out, then have one of the other muggles in the hostel come in and see it. There were some magical things he had that could be explained away as an interest in the occult, but most of his things would prompt uncomfortable questions.
He was just kneeling to disengage the magical locks on his trunk when someone knocked on the door. "Come in!" he called, moving to sit on the trunk.
Becca poked her head in and smiled at him. "Hey."
Harry smiled back. "What can I do for you?"
Becca slipped into the room, looking a little uncomfortable. "Um, your uncle... Does he always treat you like that?"
Harry blinked. "What? Run away in terror?"
Becca shook her head. "No. What he called you."
"Freak," Harry said drily and Becca flinched. "They've always called me that. Doesn't matter."
"It does matter," Becca insisted. "What they call you... It's wrong. It–"
"Becca, I don't let their opinion of me colour who I am," Harry commented tiredly. "I got over that ages ago."
Becca looked sad and stepped around the bed to draw Harry into a hug. When Harry stiffened, she sighed and pulled away. "Okay." She moved back to the door and opened it to leave. "Just... I'm here, if you need someone to talk to."
Harry groaned and rubbed at his scar once the door closed behind her. He wasn't used to people worrying about him, and it bothered him. "I'm so screwed up," he muttered, then got back on the ground and sifted through his trunk, pulling out the things that were safe for him to have out, which was mostly clothing, but there were a few knick-knacks he'd collected over the years that weren't too magical in appearance.
He was just starting to close his trunk when he realised that some of his things were missing. Vernon had grabbed his trunk, but anything that hadn't been inside it was back in his bedroom at Privet Drive. "Bugger," he muttered, knocking his head against the lid of his trunk. Hedwig's cage and his school books could all be replaced, but the pictures and most of the books that Mad-Eye had given him couldn't. He'd have to go back and get it, and that was not going to be any fun. Vernon would probably bash his head in for returning after he'd told Harry not to come back.
I'll have to wait until I'm of age, Harry realised. I just hope they don't destroy anything until then. Damn.
He shook his head and dragged himself to his feet to put his few safe belongings away. He was just finishing when something tapped on the window and, grinning, Harry stepped over to let his owl in. "Hey there, girl. I'm glad you were able to find me."
Hedwig gave him an unimpressed look.
Harry chuckled. "I know, I know. You can always find me. You're just brilliant."
Hedwig puffed her feathers proudly and dropped the letters on the table next to the window. She fluttered for a moment, looking around, then landed awkwardly on Harry's shoulder.
Harry sighed. "I know, your perch is still at the Dursleys'. I'll see about getting you a new one tomorrow. Is that okay?"
Hedwig hooted her agreement and set about preening Harry's hair while the human reached down and picked up his letters. He moved over to the bed and they took a moment to both get settled – Hedwig perching on the worn headboard and Harry stretching out beneath her – then Harry set about reading his letters, smiling, before turning off the light and going to sleep. He'd respond tomorrow some time. (And decide what to tell Remus about his new living arrangements then.)
The next morning, Harry was up with the sun, as ever. He got ready for the day, then wandered down to front desk and poked Zack, who was dozing.
"Hu-huh?" Zack blinked up at him for a long moment. "Ur... Harry?" He glanced over at the wall clock behind him, then looked back up at Harry, disbelieving. "Why're you up so freakin' early?"
Harry smiled. "I'm an early riser. Have you got a map of London? I need to go over to Charing Cross Road, but I'm not sure how to get there from here."
Zack groaned and ducked behind the desk, coming back up again with a worn map. "It's not too far," he mumbled, opening the map and pointing at Charing Cross Road, then using the index finger of his other hand to point out where the hostel was. "About ten minutes to walk."
Harry nodded and mentally worked out how to get there. "Cool. Can I borrow your hat?" he asked, nodding to the beret Zack's elbow was resting on.
Zack considered the younger man, then shrugged and handed the beret over. "Yeah, sure. Your hair's kinda scary."
Harry rolled his eyes and slipped the beret on, taking care to make sure it covered his scar. "Brilliant. Thanks, Zack."
"Yeah, just make sure you bring it back, right?"
Harry waved over his shoulder and headed for the front door. "I'll leave it on your doorknob when I get back," he promised.
The trip ended up being almost fifteen minutes, but that was because the Leaky Cauldron was a ways down from where Harry cut over. Inside the pub, Harry ordered an egg sandwich to go, then made his way out the back door and through the archway into the alley.
Diagon Alley was completely deserted and only a few shops were open. Harry knew that a lot of that was due to it being so early, but Voldemort being about also tended to keep people away from public venues. Admittedly, people's avoidance of the Alley made it one of the safest areas in Britain, and Harry had laughed when he'd realised that. (He'd been with Mad-Eye at the time and the ex-auror had been torn between laughing himself and smacking his student, eventually doing both.)
In spite of the assumed safety of the Alley, Harry didn't dawdle on his way to Gringotts. There, he got a goblin to take him down to his vault and withdrew a couple handfuls of gold galleons. He stopped at the goblin who converted galleons to pounds and handed over twenty galleons, getting back one hundred pounds, which he stuffed into his pouch.
Harry was just turning away from the goblin with a quiet, "Thanks," when the doors opened and a tall wizard that made Harry's heart stutter to a stop walked in.
Sharp red-brown eyes swept around the few clients in the bank and stopped on Harry. One perfect eyebrow raised in surprise, then the man smirked and started for a counter two down from where Harry was standing. "Hello, Harry," Tom Riddle said as he passed.
Harry bared his teeth. "Fuck you," he hissed, then hurried out of the bank, heart going far too fast. He ducked down an alley between two buildings and stopped to breathe, eyes wide. Shit. Shitshitshit! He closed his eyes for a moment, then popped them back open, unable to keep them closed in fear of his own safety.
Five minutes later, Harry was finally calm enough to step back out into Diagon and start back towards the Leaky. He was just passing the door into Flourish and Blott's when someone fell into step with him and commented, "No need to be so rude."
Harry swallowed and glanced at the man out of the corner of his eye. "What do you want?"
"A great many things," the man replied flippantly. "World domination, no more muggles, Dumbledore's head on a gold platter..." The smile that followed the list would have added to many a person's nightmares.
Harry stopped walking and turned to face his life-long enemy. "That I knew. Why are you following me?"
"What, I can't just be walking towards the Leaky Cauldron?"
Harry snorted. "You? Only if you have designs on massacring the three people who are brave enough to be staying there."
The red-brown eyes gleamed. "I will admit to some curiosity."
"What? About normal people?"
"About your knowledge and usage of a Dark spell."
Harry considered the Dark Lord, then commented, "It was legal. It's just magic."
"And they were just eighteen men," Riddle returned, smirking.
Harry snorted. "Men? Murderers, more like."
"Are you not also now a murderer?"
Harry looked away and whispered. "Self-defence."
"Murder," Riddle insisted. "I've seen the memories of those who survived, Harry; don't use your pretty words with me."
Harry glared up at the Dark Lord. "Fuck you! I did what I had to do to protect my friends!"
Riddle laughed and smiled a horrible smile. "Protect your friends? Harry, you could have just as easily found a way to 'protect' them without resorting to murder, and you know it."
Harry pulled his wand out and had it pointed between Riddle's eyes before the bastard could blink. "Continue to mock me. Please."
Riddle continued to smile as his fingers wrapped around Harry's throat. "What will you use, Harry Potter? The Killing Curse, perhaps? Could you live with yourself after killing in cold blood?"
"It's not cold blood when your hand's around my throat, is it?" Harry replied, eyes glinting with anger.
Riddle's smile widened. "Isn't it?"
Harry stared up into those cold, laughing eyes and slowly lowered his wand. He couldn't do it. The spell was on the tip of his tongue, but months of practising Dark magic had taught him that when he had time to think about a spell, when he had time to wonder if it would work, it wouldn't.
Before Harry's wand was fully lowered, Riddle had snatched it out of his hand and bodily slammed him against the outside of a nearby shop. Harry grunted, then stared in shock as the red-brown eyes became completely red. "Don't threaten me, boy," Riddle snarled. "Not unless you intend to follow through."
Harry choked against the hand pressing painfully on his windpipe. "Y-Yeah! Yeah!" he gasped out.
Riddle took a step back, letting him go, and Harry crumpled to the ground, coughing. The Dark Lord stood watch over him, idly tapping Harry's wand against his bicep.
Once Harry had regained his breath, he looked up at the older wizard. "Why didn't you kill me?" he asked.
Riddle smiled. "Because you haven't yet satisfied my curiosity."
Harry blinked. "So my refusal to answer how I knew and was able to use the Curse of a Hundred Daggers is keeping me alive?"
"Yes."
Harry nodded ever so slowly, then jumped to his feet and made a mad dash down the alley, through the Leaky, and out onto Charing Cross Road. He kept running for a few more blocks, ducking between muggles and holding Zack's beret in one hand.
Once he felt sure that anyone who'd tried following him would have lost him, Harry ducked between two shops and leant against the wall between some bins to gasp in much-needed air.
He was back on the road and making his way back toward the hostel when the realisation hit him: Voldemort has my wand.
Harry groaned and rubbed at his scar, making a mental note to go by Ollivander's in a couple of days. Until then, he just hoped he could avoid all his enemies.
-0-
A/N: Was that a more plausible set-up for Harry and Tom's first meeting? I seriously struggled with how I'd have them meet up and work in the need to meet again. I mean, Harry has no intention of seeing Voldemort again if he can help it, but Voldie has a burning question and he's not going to let Harry alone until he's got his answer. (I can totally see Tom Riddle as being the sort of person who must understand anomalies. That, or I've been watching too much House MD. ^.^")
~Bats ^.^x
- The Ron-bashing has been almost completely done away with. I make some jabs at him, but he won't be ending up in Azkaban or strung up in the front hall.
- Most of the Dumbledore bashing has been toned down as well. Tom still doesn't like him – and everyone knows it – but Harry himself is fairly neutral about Albus. (Really, I just had an insanely hard time bashing him. Too much Broken, I suspect.)
- Ginny doesn't know that Marcus is Tom Riddle. She'll find out with everyone else.
- Harry doesn't befriend the Slytherins on the train. That comes later.
- No one knows that Marcus is at all related to Voldemort or his people.
- No pregnant!Hermione. (This was something Shara vetoed when I started talking about the re-write.) Sorry to those looking forward to her twins.
- Different Minister for Magic. Fudge got sacked and Scrimgeour took over.
- Vernon never raped Harry. That was all Dudley.
Abandon the Prequel: Sixth Year
Abandon chapter 01
Reclaim chapter One
Abandoned Chapters:
Eleven || Twelve || Thirteen || Fourteen || Fifteen || Sixteen || Seventeen || Eighteen || Nineteen || Twenty
INCOMPLETE
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