Building Doors by JAWorley
Summary: [COMPLETE] After Harry blows up Aunt Marge and catches the Knight Bus to Diagonalley, he decides to take charge of his life when he learns he’s being sent back to Four Privet Drive. Harry spends the summer turning life in Diagonalley on its head, trying not to worry about the murderer Sirius Black, and attempting to avoid Severus Snape. In the midst of this he finds himself embroiled in an intense legal battle against Albus Dumbledore to decide his future. For the first time his fate rests solely in his own hands, and depend on the decisions he finds himself being forced to make. Harry wishes he could just be a thirteen year old boy, and begins to wonder if he’ll ever have the childhood he desires the most. Some of the warnings listed just as a precaution for things mentioned or alluded to.
Categories: Healer Snape, Teacher Snape > Trusted Mentor Snape, Teacher Snape > Professor Snape, Parental Snape > Guardian Snape, Fic Fests > Fic Fest 2018 Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Dumbledore, Original Character, Other, Sirius
Snape Flavour: Snape is Angry, Snape's a Bully, Canon Snape, Snape Comforts, Snape is Kind, Snape is Mean, Snape is Secretive, Snape is Stern
Genres: Angst, Canon, Drama, Family, General, Hurt/Comfort
Media Type: None
Tags: Adoption, Azkaban Character, Incognito!Harry, Injured!Harry, Runaway, Spying on Harry! Snape
Takes Place: 3rd summer, 3rd Year
Warnings: Abusive Dursleys, Bullying, Neglect, Physical Punishment Non-Spanking, Suicide Themes, Violence
Challenges: None
Series: Building Doors
Chapters: 25 Completed: Yes Word count: 159491 Read: 141177 Published: 17 Aug 2018 Updated: 10 Aug 2021
Story Notes:

In this story Harry blows up Aunt Marge at the very beginning the summer.  In this story Dumbledore is good. He’s not manipulative or evil, or even barmy despite what Harry may believe. Dumbledore believes he’s doing what’s in Harry’s best interests. Whether he is, or isn’t, is up to the reader.


Snape appears in this story at first to be a great character assassin and cast doubt on Harry’s ability to make sound decisions.  As the story progresses however, Severus finds himself doubting his own decision making ability regarding the Boy-Who-Lived. He isn’t in the story much in the first five chapters, but appears more and more as the story progresses and begins to play a major role in the second half.  This is a Harry centric story because of Harry’s predicament and he spends a lot of time on his own without adults, so please be patient for encounters and interactions with our favorite Potions Master.

 
The Barrister by JAWorley
Author's Notes:
"If opportunity doesn't knock, build a door." - Milton Burle
Harry wasn't sure yet if blowing up Aunt Marge was a disaster or a blessing. It had gotten him out of 4 Privet Drive right at the start of the summer before his relatives had been able to inflict too much damage on his body (really, a black eye and a few other bumps and bruises were nothing much to worry about compared to previous summers), but at the same time left him homeless and on the side of the road in the dark cold night. Harry had lucked out when he tripped and fell over a large mangy dog that had wound its way between his legs, and as a result accidentally conjured the Knight Bus, but where he should go once the bus had appeared wasn't certain.

"No dogs," said the pimply bus attendant Stan Shunpike. Harry frowned and turned around to stare at the dog behind him that had been responsible for his rear end smarting.

"It's not mine," Harry said.

"Well," said Stan, "in that case, welcome aboard. What's yer name and where are yeh off teh?"

"Harry P-" he paused. Would it be wise to use his last name? Once Hermione had warned him about reporters and Harry didn't want anybody to know where he was going, wherever that was. "Pierce," Harry finished, "and I don't know exactly where to go."

"Yeh don' know-" Stan started, "Ernie! ‘Ee don't know where teh go!"

The decrepit elderly bus driver climbed down off his seat and came to the door to stare down at Harry who was still standing on the pavement with his trunk staring up at them.

"Hogwarts student or deaged Potions Apprentice?" Ernie asked.

"What?"

At Harry's befuddled look Ernie said, "Hogwarts student then. What are yeh, a second year? Third?"

"Third," Harry said, adding silently to himself, almost.

"And what did yeh fight with yer parents about?"

"I didn't!" Harry said indignantly. "Look, I just need a place to stay."

"If yeh got a lot of coin," Stan said, though after another look at Harry's clothes and shoes, he looked as though he doubted Harry did, "then yeh can stay at the Purple Witch or the Hotel at Nimbus River."

"There's the Leaky Cauldron on Diagonalley and it won't break the bank," Ernie said more reasonably.

"That one," Harry said. "I'll go there."

"Yeah," said Ernie as he climbed back onto the bus, "That's where they all go."

Harry frowned as Stan grabbed one end of his trunk and helped him carry it up onto the bus. After the bus had taken off with a bang, Harry asked Stan quietly, "What does he mean that's where they all go?"

"Runaways," Stan said. "That's where the Ministry always finds ‘em too!" He grinned at Harry but Harry didn't smile back. He wasn't a runaway, not really. His aunt and Uncle had thrown him out. That wasn't the same thing. He had blown up Aunt Marge though, and he could get in trouble for using magic outside of school. He thought about all the possible punishments this could mean for him on the way to Diagonalley, but they were there before he could finish thinking over the possibilities.

"The Minister," Ernie muttered, and Harry looked out window as they pulled up in Muggle London outside the Leaky Cauldron.

"Minister?" Harry asked.

"Blimy Harry," Stan said in awe, "are yeh on the run from the law? I've never seen the Minister o' Magic turn up just fer a runaway!"

"I'm not a runaway," Harry repeated as the bus came to a stop. Harry stared anxiously out the window at the short portly man. It was just a coincidence that he was there, wasn't it? He had probably stopped in for a drink. That was it. But as Ernie opened the bus door and Stan began carrying Harry's trunk off the bus, the most horrible of the punishments Harry had thought up for himself came to the forefront of his mind.

"Is he on there?" The Minister asked.

"Who?" Ernie asked roughly, not leaving his seat. He sounded as though he didn't like the Minister very much.

"Harry Potter."

Ernie turned in his seat and raised a brow at Harry. Harry figured there was nothing for it now that his cover was blown. He stood up and made his way to the front of the bus and then down the steps.

"There you are," the Minister said. "Half the aurors have been searching the countryside for you!"

"Sir?" Harry asked.

"Come inside, quickly. Your trunk has already been taken in." He ushered Harry into the Leaky Cauldron and into a private back room that had a table and two cushy brown leather armchairs by a glowing fire.

"Sit Harry, yes, that's right, just there. Tom? Firebrandy and pumpkin juice." Tom, the owner disappeared before Harry had been fully aware that he'd been standing behind them at the door.

Finally the Minister sat down across from Harry and looked him up and down, eyes lingering briefly on his black eye. "Not hurt? Are you hungry?"

Harry shook his head.

"I've been worried for the last few hours. It's good that you're not hurt."

Tom came back a moment later with two metal cups and set the pumpkin juice down in front of Harry. He left and the Minister took a drink of his Firebrandy before giving another look over Harry again.

"Sir-" Harry began. "How much trouble am I in?" He must have been in quite a lot if the Minster of Magic himself had turned up to yell at him.

"Trouble? For what- running away?"

"I didn't run away," Harry said. "My aunt and uncle kicked me out."

"Yes, well, from what I understand they were quite upset about your uncle's sister. But I can't see punishing a bit of accidental magic. As I understand it you didn't have your wand on you at the time. You didn't mean to blow her up did you?"

"No-" Harry began, but was cut off.

"See then, all is well since you didn't mean to do it. We're just glad you're safe."

"Ernie and Stan said the Minister doesn't usually come out for this sort of thing though."

He gave Harry a calculating look before taking another drink of Firebrandy. "You're not just an ordinary runaway Harry, and you can't be too careful with a murderer on the loose."

"I didn't run away," he reminded him again, before asking, "What Murderer?"

"Hm, that's right, you're probably too young to be interested in the Prophet, aren't you? Sirius Black."

"I saw him on the Muggle news." He'd only been back at Privet Drive for a few days, but the news had been running reports about an escaped murderer every night after dinner on the telly. Aunt Petunia had made uncle Vernon install extra locks on all the doors and windows.

"We have alerts out everywhere. He's a dangerous man Harry, quite mad. He's killed before and he'll kill again." He looked like he wanted to say something else to Harry but didn't. "You'll stay here at the Leaky Cauldron for a few days until it can be decided what's best for you Harry. I can have Tom look after you. His father was Minister once you know."

"What do you mean what's best for me?"

"It may take a few days to sort out if you're going back to your aunt and uncle's house and if not where you will go. I'll have to speak to your relatives, Dumbledore, and the Wizarding Welfare office at the Ministry."

"Do I get a say?" Harry asked. He really wanted to spend the summer with the Weasleys or go back to Hogwarts.

"I'm afraid even I don't have much of a say," he said. He stood up and drained the last of his Firebrandy. "Don't go out into Muggle London Harry. Either a Ministry Official or someone from Hogwarts should be along to collect you in the next few days. If you need anything, tell Tom."

Harry stood up too but the Minister had already shaken Harry's hand and was out the door before Harry could ask more questions or protest. What did the Minister mean he didn't have a say? And why couldn't he choose where he wanted to go? It was his life wasn't it? He definitely didn't want to return to the Dursleys.

Tom appeared in the door again and beckoned for Harry to follow. As they made their way up a set of steep wooden steps, Tom said, "The Minister wants me to send three meals a day up to your room, but I'll send up snacks too. Is there anything in particular you'd like Mr. Potter?"

"No sir," Harry said. "Anything will be fine." Tom used a gold key to open the door to a single room with a large four-poster bed and a wardrobe. It had a window but it was too dark to see if it looked out over Diagonalley or Muggle London. "I can't leave the room?" Harry asked.

"I wasn't given orders to keep you here," Tom said, "just to provide your meals in your room and make sure you didn't go to Muggle London. If I had to venture a guess I'd say the Minister did want you to stay up here, but I wasn't given orders for it."

"So-" Harry said cautiously, testing the waters, "If I went out on the alley tomorrow, you wouldn't try to stop me?"

"No," said Tom with a smile as he handed Harry the key and backed out the door, "I don't suppose I would."

When he was gone and the door had been closed Harry sighed and flopped backwards onto the bed, staring at the depressing gray canopy. This was some mess he'd gotten himself into. If they sent him back to the Dursleys now he'd have the worst summer ever. He might not even make it back to Hogwarts. They'd build a secret room the Weasleys and their flying car couldn't find and lock Harry up in it forever. It was depressing really. He couldn't even imagine another option of anywhere they could think to send him to stay for the rest of the summer. If he really thought about it he couldn't go to the Weasley's either. Ron had told him on the train a few days ago that he'd only be home for a few days before his family left for Egypt to see his brother.

But he should have some choice of where to stay, shouldn't he? He was almost 13 after all. He'd beaten Quirril, Tom Riddle's ghost, and a giant Basilisk. Those things should count for something shouldn't they? He could take care of himself.

Harry lay awake for hours thinking about things before he finally drifted off to sleep, though when he woke early the next morning to the smell of food he felt like he hadn't slept at all. His eyes roamed the room and found a tray with a plate on it. It had eggs, bangers, mash, and tomatoes. Feeling depressed Harry brought the plate over to the bed and began eating. It was good, but he wasn't that hungry and left most of it on the plate. Changing clothes quickly and rummaging through his trunk for his vault key, Harry took the plate full of food and went back down the steep stairs in search of Tom.

"What do you want me to do with this?" Harry asked when he found him.

"Wasn't it good?" Tom asked.

"It was, I'm just not hungry," Harry said. "I just wondered where the sink was to wash it."

"Here." He held out his hand and Harry handed the plate to him. Tom snapped his fingers and the plate was clean. "No need. Guests don't do dishes unless they default on their rent payment."

"How much do I owe you for rent?" Harry asked.

"It's 16 Sickles a night. The Minister told me to deduct it out of your Gringotts account on your behalf."

Harry sighed. That wasn't very fair was it? He did suppose that he had to stay somewhere, but it would have been nice if he'd at least been told that they were going to get into his account instead of just doing it without his knowledge.

"Problem Mr. Potter?"

Harry shook his head. "No sir. I was just wishing I had some say over things in my life..." he trailed off in thought as Tom prepared food for another hungry guest. "Tom- what are you supposed to do when you don't have any control over things?"

Tom looked at him thoughtfully. "I suppose when a wizard feels like things are out of his control, he hires a barrister if he can afford one."

"A barrister?"

"They can advocate for you in court or figure if the laws are in your favor."

"How much do they cost?"

"Good ones can cost hundreds of Galleons per day."

Harry shuddered. He knew he had a pile of gold but he didn't want to blow through it all in just a few days.

"Are there Barristers on Diagonalley?"

"One just above Fortescue's. There's a couple down Knocturn."

"Thanks."

Harry left the kitchen and went out to the courtyard. He tapped the appropriate bricks and was granted entrance to Diagonalley. It was early and there weren't any shoppers about yet, only shopkeepers who were sweeping up in front of their stores, washing windows, and setting items out in front for sale.

Harry went straight to Fortescue's and found a door off to the side that he hadn't noticed before. In pristine silver lettering it read, "Harrison Silver, Barrister at Law." Harry tested the handle and found it unlocked. Beyond the door was a set of stairs and he climbed them to find another door at the top. He knocked and was told to enter the brightly lit office decorated in light greys. There was a woman at a shiny mahogany desk with neat stacks of paperwork all in a straight line along the edge of the desktop. She stared at him as he entered.

"Yes?" she asked.

"I need to talk to a Barrister."

"Try Knockturn," she said.

Harry frowned. "This is a Barrister's office isn't it?"

"Mr. Silver sees high profile clients exclusively. He's very busy."

"You won't even ask him?"

She looked at his shirt which was frayed at the bottom hem and starting to go gray from being worn so long and then shook her head.

Harry turned around and left the office without a word. Well this was a pickle wasn't it? He wasn't exactly allowed to go down Knocturn Alley was he? Mrs. Weasley had been upset when he'd ended up there using the floo last summer, and even Hagrid had seemed worried to find him there. Harry had to say he himself wasn't all that keen to venture down the dark dingy alley again. It had been a little frightening. Tom had mentioned there being barristers on Knockturn though. He wouldn't have mentioned it at all if Harry wasn't allowed to go.

He turned his feet towards Gringotts, thinking he should at least see how much gold he had available before he tried to talk to a Barrister again. He presented his key at the desk and asked if there was a statement he could see of what was in his account. The goblin disappeared for a few minutes and then came back with a parchment he handed to Harry. 1,509 Galleons, 16 Sickles, and 22 Knuts. "Thank you," Harry said, and left the bank. He folded up the parchment and stared at the entrance to Knocturn Alley. Knocturn and Diagon converged right at the very end of both of them just in front of Gringotts. From the front steps of Gringotts Harry had a unique view of both. Diagonalley was crooked but wide and full of life. Shops were painted bright cheerful colors, the cobbled lane was clean and free of debris, and a lot of light came into the alley from above. Knocturn Alley was narrow and empty, the cobbled lane was dingy and so were the buildings, the colors were drab and it was dark. Knocturn looked like it twisted and turned because Harry couldn't see very far down it before buildings blocked his view.

Making up his mind (he had to at least try to get himself somewhere better than the Dursleys), he steeled himself, pulled out his wand, and went towards the entrance to Knocturn Alley. He thought an adult would see him and try to stop him as there were shoppers out now, but no one did. He took an experimental step into the alley and when nothing happened he took another, and then another. As he continued walking he began looking at shop signs, trying to find a Barrister and hoping there was one not too far down this quiet, depressing street. It was almost like all the sounds were muffled somehow, and it made Harry feel like an intruder in this place because the sounds of his shoes scraping against the cobbled lane weren't muffled.

There were people here, he realized, but they stared out at him from their shop windows or hung back in the shadows.

Like on Diagonalley there was a bookstore, an apothecary, and a sweet shop, only instead of ice cream this sweet shop sold candy and other treats. The windows of the shop were dingy and covered in a gray film though and Harry didn't think he'd ever want to set foot in it.

"What're you doin' down Knocturn?"

Harry turned and was surprised to find Justin Finch-Fletchley. "Justin?" Harry asked. He'd never really talked that much to the Hufflepuff, but he knew who he was and who his friends were. Hermione was friends with Justin's friend Hannah Abbot so sometimes they crossed paths. "I'm looking for a Barrister," Harry said. "What are you doing here?"

Justin turned and pointed behind him to a tall depressing gray brick building, but his eyes didn't leave Harry's. Harry's eyes scanned the building and found a sign that read, ‘Peverell's Orphanage.'

Harry let his eyes fall back on Justin.

"Not all of us are lucky," Justin said, seeming irritated.

Harry frowned. "Lucky?"

"To have relatives to go back to," he said. "Barrister's over there." He pointed at a door across from the orphanage and then disappeared into a tiny alley that seemed to go right under the second floor of the orphanage. He'd had no idea that Justin was an orphan and felt bad that he apparently had to go back to an orphanage every summer.

Harry had never supposed he'd been ‘lucky' to be placed with the Dursleys, but staring again at the depressing gray orphanage in the middle of Knocturn Alley, he supposed he might have had it a lot better than Justin. He could have ended up here as Justin's roommate. He tried to imagine what that would be like for a moment, but then turned towards the Barrister's office Justin had indicated.

Like the other Barrister's this door was unlocked and Harry went in. He could tell immediately that this was different from the other office. There was no secretary. It was a single small room with a worn wooden desk piled high with haphazard stacks of parchment that leaned precariously to the side, ready to topple at any moment.

"Yes?" came a grouchy voice, and a man appeared from behind the many tall stacks of paper. His hair was slightly less wild than Harry's, but Harry eyed the man warily anyway.

"I'm looking for a Barrister," Harry said quietly.

"What for? If you're from that orphanage to pester me for donations again I'll turn you into a toad and sell you to the apothecary to get the money."

"I'm not from the orphanage," Harry said, and thought about being Justin's roommate again. Maybe Harry had been lucky.

"Well what's your legal trouble then? Sit there in the chair. Don't mind the piles of paperwork, there are spells to keep them standing."

Harry eyed the nearest pile and wondered how strong the spells were. "Er..."

"Spit it out. I've got court in twenty minutes and I'm due in Malton after that. I'll be lucky if I get a break at all today."

"The Minister of Magic wants to send me back to my aunt and uncle's house," Harry said, not certain he was making any sense to the man. "Or to somewhere, but he doesn't know yet. He said I don't really get a choice of where I go and neither does he."

The Barrister appeared from behind the towering stacks again to stare at Harry, open mouthed. "The Minister of Magic? What's he want with you? What's your name?"

"Harry Potter."

The man's eyes travelled predictably up to his scar which was covered by hair, and then to his black eye and tattered clothes.

"You're Harry Potter?"

"Yes sir."

"Why aren't you over at Silver's? He's the Potter Barrister."

"Harrison Silver? I went over there. The secretary wouldn't let me see him. What do you mean Potter Barrister?"

"Have you been living under a rock?" the irritable man asked. He was a lot like Professor Snape, only he seemed wilder and more willing to say whatever popped into his mind. It looked like he'd had as little sleep as Harry.

"Let's assume I have," Harry said.

"The Potter's have always used the Silver's as their Barristers. I imagine he's on retainer for your legal troubles. Go back and tell them your name."

Harry thought about the snotty attitude of the secretary though and how she'd implied that he wasn't good enough for them to spend their time to help him. "I don't want Silver, I want to choose my own Barrister."

The man sighed and pulled out a new piece of parchment from a drawer and a quill. He scribbled something down and then looked up at Harry expectantly. "Well? What do you want me to do as your Barrister? What's this about the Minister and your aunt and uncle's house?"

Harry went into the story about blowing up Aunt Marge, being chased out of the house by Uncle Vernon, tripping over the dog, the Knight Bus, the visit from the Minster, and how he wanted to choose where to live since he was almost 13.

"Wizarding majority isn't until 17. Wizard law doesn't allow emancipation until 16, and in very rare cases, 15."

"I don't know if I want to be emancipated," Harry said, not even certain what that was, "but it's not fair that I don't have any choice of where I get to live."

"Hardly any child has a choice in where they live," the man said.

Harry pointed to his black eye and then lifted up the front of his shirt to show the bruises that were hidden. "Most children aren't being told they'll have to go back to this either," Harry said. "This kind of thing isn't allowed in the Muggle world... is it allowed in this one?"

"No," the barrister agreed. He glanced up at a clock behind Harry and then pulled a briefcase out of somewhere behind the desk and his piles of papers. "I have court. I have to go now or I'll be late. Come back tomorrow at nine. I'll have to do some research about law and about you."

"About me?" Harry asked as he was ushered back out the door and onto the dingy alley.

"Yes you. I have to know who has actual custody of you and about how and why you were placed where you were if I'm to represent your case to the Ministry or in mediation."

"I don't even know your name yet," Harry said as the man rushed off, leaving him there alone in the alley.

"Theodore Podmore, Barrister," he said, and then he was gone around a corner. Harry sighed and then began walking back towards Gringotts. He gave a last look up at the orphanage and saw a child looking down at him from the second story window. The child waved and Harry waved back. "Lucky," he repeated to himself again, not certain if he was or wasn't.

The End.
End Notes:
I know I have a lot of unfinished stories that are posted that I should be working on, so I have no business posting a new one. However, I also have several stories I've been working on for quite a while that I haven't posted yet, and I saw a long lull in people updating or posting new things to read, so I figured I'd throw something new up even though it isn't quite finished yet. I'll post a few chapters to start off with and then post more slowly until we're all caught up.


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