3rd Summer-July 30th 1993

The street was silent the evening before Harry's thirteen birthday, the preteen stopping before the empty house on Wisteria Walk that had once belonged to his babysitter.  Since that fateful summer evening when the accident occurred, none had yet moved into Number 17 Wisteria Walk, only a couple streets from Privet Drive.  It played vividly in Harry's mind, Mrs. Figg crouched into the middle of the road, arms laden with shopping bags... his voice being shrouded by a blaring horn...the screech of tires...a thud followed by silence.  Harry had been unable to move, unable to go to his babysitter's aid as she was dragged underneath the bus. Stunned at what he had witnessed, this being the first death he had seen in the muggle world, a stranger had taken the shocked child back home, informing them of what had happened.  A few days later workers from the RPSCA had come to collect the cats that Mrs. Figg had owned and found a malnourished black dog hiding in the house as well, something odd given Mrs. Figg was known as the batty old cat lady.   Still, the dog had no tags and was taken to the pound with the cats.

Shaking his head, Harry continued his walk, heading towards the park where he sat at one of the picnic tables, staring up at the starry sky before dropping his gaze to his arm, staring down at the scar there.  He was lucky to have survived to his thirteen birthday after the events of the previous year with the Basilisk and the Chamber of Secrets.  Though Fawkes tears had stopped the venom spreading and closed the wound, it had left a permanent scar.  He'd also woken up in terrible pain on the morning of the summer solstice, unable to breathe comfortably until he had started a fire in the hearth though that had gotten him in trouble with his uncle. Harry hadn't spoken of feeling like the venom was still inside him to his friends, nor how he loved fire and used to make flames dance for Dudley when he'd been small until Uncle Vernon saw it.  Ron wouldn't understand and Hermione would say he was stupid and that it was impossible from Fawkes healing tears curing the wound.

Movement appeared in his eye as he looked up, a finger tracing the scar on his arm to see an owl coming towards him with a letter in its beak. He watched the bird fly towards him and alight on the table, dropping the envelope.   Harry turned it over to see the Hogwarts Crest on the back and opened it, pulling out a letter.

Dear Mr. Potter,

It is almost time for the third year to begin and third years choose their electives for the upcoming year which will be taken until their 5th year OWLs (Ordinary Wizarding Levels).  Students may take no more than three electives. The choice of electives at Hogwarts are Divination, Muggle Studies, Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy and Ancient Runes.  Included with this letter is a permission slip to Hogsmeade that all students third years and up can attend.   You will need a guardian's signature on the slip to attend.   Please write back with the electives you wish to take and send it back with the owl so classes can be scheduled for the upcoming year.

Sincerely,

Professor Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

P.S. I am aware you know nothing about your parents so thought you might be interested in what they took.   James took Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy, and Divination while Lily took Arithmancy, Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures.  Your mother also took Art, Music and Ancient Studies as extracurricular activities. I believe the Potters were talented with Runes and Arithmancy.

Harry smiled to himself as he read what Professor McGonagall said about his parents electives and looked in the envelope where he saw the permission slip.  Harry hoped that he could manage to get Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia to sign it.  Divination sounded like a load of hogwash to him and there was no reason for him to take Muggle Studies since he lived with Muggles.  He enjoyed animals as he did gardening so immediately decided on that class and he did enjoy drawing so maybe he'd look into taking Art as an extracurricular activity his third year.  Arithmancy sounded like an advanced form of Divination to him, and he wasn't good at math.  Deciding on Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes, Harry carefully tore off a piece of parchment from the letter and wrote that he'd be taking Creatures and Runes for his third year before sending it off with the owl. 

"Convicted of murder thirteen years ago, Black is 5'9.5" with black hair, white skin and grey eyes. Possibly wearing a gray prison outfit and carrying a gun, the public is warned that Black is armed and extremely dangerous. A special hot line has been set up, and any sighting of Black should be reported immediately."

"Hang on! You haven't even told us where he's escaped from!  He could be walking up the street right now!"

"Uncle Vernon?"

"What is it boy?"

"Third years can go to Hogsmeade on weekends but I need a permission slip signed by you or Aunt Petunia," said Harry, not daring to hope his uncle would do this for him.

"Give it here boy." Harry stared at his uncle who hadn't yet moved from his chair, hardly daring to believe he had heard right.  That was when his uncle turned his head to stare at Harry. "Well boy?!  I haven't got all night!"

Harry jumped at his uncle's tone and hurried to remove the slip and his pen, going to the couch and handing them to his uncle who then wrote Harry's name at the top and then signed and dated the permission slip before thrusting it back into Harry's hand.  "You can send that with your owl boy and tell it not to come back here.  You can meet it at that school o yours and you should know Marge is coming here tomorrow for a week."

"Aunt Marge is coming here?!"

"Yes, and she doesn't know about your... freakishness.  As far as you're concerned  boy, you go to St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys. You'll be on your best behavior while Marge is here or there'll be trouble.  Now get rid of that bird and go change.  There's a couple sandwiches and some soup you can heat up in the fridge tomorrow for lunch. We're going out."  Harry hurried from his uncle's sight before the beefy man could change his mind, wondering what could have snapped in his uncle's mind.  Not only had Uncle Vernon  signed his permission slip for the upcoming school year but they were going out and he was being included.

"Hedwig, take this to Hogwarts," said Harry as he ran into his room and over to Hedwig's cage. He then went to his desk and pulled out an envelope, slipping the permission slip inside it and addressing it to Professor McGonagall.

Professor McGonagall

Hogwarts

Scotland, UK

Licking the flap and making sure it was closed, he headed back to Hedwig and held out his arm, tying the letter to a leg before carrying her to the window, the bars not having been replaced after his summer second.  "You'll have to stay at Hogwarts for the rest of the summer.  Aunt Marge is coming to spend a week here and she doesn't know I can do magic.  I'll see you on September 2nd, okay girl?"

"Hoot," said Hedwig, nipping his finger affectionately before allowing Harry to throw her into the sky, the owl heading off for Hogwarts.   He then looked through his closet, trying to find something presentable that would fit him before changing and finding he had grown a couple inches as his pants were now above his ankles, his pants no longer hanging loose either and he undid the belt that he used to keep them up, finding they suddenly fit.  When did that happen? Did I hit a growth spurt? Shrugging, he put his glasses on, only to winch as a searing pain appeared behind his eyes. Removing his glasses, Harry rubbed at his forehead as he ran a brush through his hair, missing the way his hair was beginning to change color at the roots.  Maybe the glasses are finally failing. I never got a prescription for these...or rather Aunt Petunia didn't.  Though, come to think of it, I've been having headaches since midsummer, and they seem to go away when I take off my glasses.  Can magic heal your eyesight?  He then left his room as his uncle hollered for him and ran downstairs, joining Dudley in the backseat.

"Dudley don't start," said Vernon as Dudley opened his mouth to complain about Harry coming.  "It's time you quit mollycoddling the boy Pet."  This caused a stunned silence in the backseat as Vernon started the car and drove off, the family of four traveling to London and after Dudley got hit by Uncle Vernon after Dudley punched Harry in his shoulder, they continued in silence  Harry could only wonder what had happened to Uncle Vernon to treat Harry with some modicum of respect.  The ride was otherwise okay, Harry staring out at the passing city lights as they made their way to London.  Even the dinner, where Harry was allowed to pick the restaurant and choose his own meal, was strange but lovely. Oh, how strange and quickly life could change.

3rd Summer-August 6th 1993

Things had been tense since Marge's arrival.  Harry would have preferred to be in his room but Aunt Marge always wanted him around mostly so she could complain about him.  He should have known his uncle being nice was an act for he went back to treating Harry like he was dirt once Marge arrived.   Harry found it harder to control his temper around the obese woman and o course she had brought along her favorite  dog, her prized stud, Ripper. The last time Ripper came, Aunt Marge let Ripper chase a terrified five-year-old Harry up a tree and did not call the dog off until after midnight.  He could remember Dudley's laughter below him, his leg bleeding from the bite wound which had scarred over and given him a fear of dogs ever since though he tried not to let it show in front of his friends and Hagrid.

"Where did you say he went to school Vernon?"

"St. Brutus's," said Vernon.  "It's a secure center for troubled youth and incurable criminals."

"Do they use the cane at St. Brutus's boy?"

Harry glanced at his uncle who nodded curtly behind Marge's back.   "Oh yes ma'am.  I get walloped loads of times," said Harry.

"I don't like that tone boy. Obviously, they aren't hitting you hard enough if you can speak of your beatings so callously.  Petunia you should write to them, tell them you expect there to be extra force with this one. I won't hear of people who are mutts not getting what for."

"Yes Marge," said Petunia.

"More brandy Marge?"

"Yes Vernon...a little more...a little more...ah, that'll do."  She then took a gulp of her drink, sloshing some down her shirt and smacking her lips when she was finished.   "What did you say his father did?"

"Didn't work.  Unemployed," said Vernon. "Same with the mother."

"And a drunk too.  Died in a car crash, didn't they?"

"My parents didn't die in a car crash! They were murdered!"

"MORE BRANDY!  Boy...go to your cup...I mean room."

"No Vernon that's alright. Let the boy stay.  Your father was a swine and lazy bum who lived of the government and then got himself drunk and your whore of a mother wasn't much better.  This one's got a mean runty look about him.  You get that with dogs. Weak. Underbred. Like I always say, bad blood will out.  Had Colonel Fubster drown one last year.  Ratty little thing it was.  Weak. Underbred.   Still, it isn't your fault Petunia but your sister was a bad egg. It all comes down to bad breeding.  If there's something wrong with the bitch, there'll be something wrong with the pup.  Personally, I would have sent the ungrateful brat to an orphanage or drow..."

But Marge couldn't finish her sentence as she began swelling up, as if she were filled with helium.  She continued swelling, her voice failing her as she struggled to speak while Dudley, Vernon and Petunia stared with wide and frightened eyes at the scene before them.  Such was Harry's anger and hatred that he didn't realize he was beginning to affect the temperature of the room, Marge's skin beginning to heat up and slowly turn red. He didn't hear his uncle telling him to stop, anger and hatred surging through his body at the insults to himself and his parents.   It was bad enough he had to hear Snape's snide comments at school but to hear his mother called filthy names...he was brought back to reality as something hot and wet landed on his face before it slid down to the table with a plop and Harry blinked as within his hazy gaze, he glimpsed blood and flesh on the walls and floor, splattering his relatives, and unknowingly him as well.  Harry, without a second thought, turned and bolted for his room.  He ripped up the loose floorboard and grabbed his wand, cloak and photo album before bolting downstairs and out the door, not stopping to get his trunk and vanished into the night.

He couldn't hear anyone chasing him yet he still he ran, his feet taking him down Wisteria Walk  to the alley connecting it with Magnolia Crescent.  Turning his head, he saw a trio of cloaked figures floating towards him as they drew closer, one reached out a hand, a glistening, grayish and slimy-looking appendage that was scabbed over.  Fear filled his eyes as he stumbled back, tripping and falling backwards...one...two...three of the foul creatures coming towards him.   His wand fell from his hand, clattering away from him and was lost in the darkness, his photo album also slipping from his grasp.   "What...no...no...stay away!"  As one of the creatures drew closer, Harry desperately shouted the first spell that came to his head.

"Lumos!"  Miraculously his wand lit up, and he scrambled to his feet to get it, the wand only a few feet away...but one of the creatures was on him and Harry's eyes widened in terror as he saw a face with only a mouth.   He felt fear, unbridled fear which he'd not felt when facing down the shade of Voldemort his previous two years at Hogwarts...he struggled futilely in its grasp as it lifted him effortlessly of the ground...the other two swooping in...a mouth coming towards him...its putrid and rattling breath causing him to lose his fight for survival...and when he opened his mouth to draw breath or scream...its mouth clamped down.

"Ah Harry.  Welcome back.  No need to get up just yet, I'm sure it's been quite the ordeal. Terrible business it is, rogue dementors in a Muggle neighborhood and with Sirius Black at large as well."  A voice broke through the fog in his brain, the adolescent opening his eyes to find himself in some sort of office.  A fire blazed in the hearth and Harry shifted, feeling a blanket on top of him.  As his vision came into focus, he saw a portly little man with grey hair sitting in a chair.  "Would you like some tea or cocoa?"

"Ummm...cocoa please.  "I'm sorry sir but who...what..."

"Rest Harry.  Have you eaten at all?"

Numbly Harry nodded.  "Marpey!"

A house elf popped into the office, bowing before Fudge, pale blue eyes glancing briefly at Harry before turning back to the man.  "Yes, Master Fudge?"

"Two cups of cocoa and some scones with cream and jam.  And make sure nobody knows Mister Potter is here."

"Yes Master." The house elf popped out and Harry slowly sat up, shivering.  He had a sudden urge to get closer to the fire and looked around the office  which had a mahogany door opening into it and green carpet with beige walls.   Not only was there the couch and hearth but also a desk and chair with two more across from it.  In the corner was a small dining table with four chairs around it.  A green rug lay before the fireplace.  A few minutes later, Marpey popped back in, setting the tray of scones and two steaming mugs of cocoa on the table before disappearing, Fudge motioning Harry to join him at the table.   

"Thank you, sir...but I'm afraid I don't know where I am or who you are. What...what were those...those creatures?"

"My name is Cornelius Fudge and I am the Minister for Magic or the United Kingdom.  The Ministry is the governing body of our world with each country holding a ministry that all wizards, witches and creatures must obey and listen to," said Fudge.  He took a scone and spread a dollup of cream and jam upon it after cutting it in half as he watched the young boy who he'd like any witch or wizard of Britain, had heard about since the downfall of the Dark Lord.  "You are at the Ministry of Magic, specifically, my office," said Fudge.

Harry took a scone and copied the Minister, taking a bite and finding the scone melted in his mouth, being the perfect texture.  "Sir, how did I get here?"

"When you were found, one of the dementors was...it's a terrible fate reserved for the worst criminals.  It is a fate worse than death and is the fate reserved for Black when he is caught. That is what these creatures are called, Dementors.  We use them to guard the wizard prison Azkaban.  But there's really no need for guards when people are trapped within their own heads. Two hit wizards were searching for the rogue dementors when they stumbled upon them and managed to rescue you in time before your soul was taken. They dealt with the creatures and then brought you here to my office and the safety of the Ministry.  With Black on the loose, it's safer for you to be at the Ministry until the start of the school year," said Fudge.  "For your own safety, I'm afraid you cannot be allowed to wander around unsupervised without an escort nor tell any friends where you are."

Harry frowned but it wasn't like he could talk to his friends anyway with Hedwig being gone. Besides, Hermione had said she was going out of the country with her parents this summer and they'd likely expect to see him on the train on September first.   He didn't know that Ron was out of the country with the rest of his family for the remainder of the summer either.  "What about my school supplies and money?"  Harry didn't understand who Sirius Black was or what this man had to do with him remaining at the Ministry for the rest of the summer, but it was better than being on the streets nor of seeing the disgust in his friends' eyes if they found out...his stomach lurched and Harry vomited.  A wave of Fudge's wand cleaned the mess up and he slipped his wand back into its holster. 

"Now Harry, how did you come to be in that alley? The hit wizards also said you were covered in blood when you were found.  Were you attacked?" 

A shudder passed down his spine as his mind flipped back to Aunt Marge saying things about his parents and then the blood...the flesh...the fire in the heart went down and a cold wind lowed through the office, a wind that seeped through underneath the door and yet seemed to come from nowhere.   Even the Minister shivered and cast a warming charm on the pair of them, yet strangely, Harry didn't feel affected by the sudden cold.   "Harry?  I thought you wore glasses?"

Harry looked at the Minister and started to lift a hand before putting it back down with a grimace.   He hadn't noticed it, but his vision was suddenly so clear without them, as I he had been in a fog all his life, and everything had been out of focus.   "I had a headache when I put them on. Wrong prescription I guess," said Harry with a sheepish shrug.  "My aunt never got me real glasses...she just plucked mine out of a lost and found bin."   He didn't' want to tell the Minister what he had done.  What if he were thrown bin Azkaban or sent back to the Dursleys?  He was sure they wouldn't take him back and if they did, he knew he wouldn't survive the night.  Yet maybe that was what he deserved.  What kind of a...a monster was he if he had...had blown up his aunt in a bloody mess...let alone licked...savored... her blood.  Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia are right.  I really am a freak.   What would my parents think of me?

Harry might not have seen much of what happened but the after result...the horror and fear...revulsion on his relatives' faces was burned into his mind.  But the Minister was allowing him to remain here rather than return to the Dursleys though he doubted anyone knew where he lived except for the twins and Ron.  Harry shook his head but, in the end, decided to be truthful with the Minister and began telling him of Aunt Marge's visit and what had happened, ending with being attacked by the dementors.  For his part, Cornelius was silent though the man was horrified at what had occurred.   A tense silence filled the air between the adolescent and the Minister until Cornelius finally spoke.   "Well, Harry.  I'll have some people go to clean up the mess and get things sorted.  Now, why don't you get some rest and I'll see about a disused office somewhere being set up for you?" 

"Sir? Will...will I get sent to Azkaban or blowing up my aunt?"

"Due to certain circumstances, I'm sure we can let it slide," said Cornelius.  "Was it intentional to kill your aunt?"  Harry shook his head, the realization of what he had done still not hitting him until that moment.  He, the Boy-Who-Lived, had killed someone! Accidentally of course but it was something he couldn't have thought himself doing and he doubted his friends would believe him either when they heard.  No...if they hear about it and I don't plan on telling them. They'd be rightfully scared of me, and I can't...I don't want to be alone again like last year.  He was sure that Snape would believe it was further proof that he was a horrible person.   "Well, then there's nothing to worry about.  But no, we don't send children to Azkaban for a bout of accidental magic!"  He laughed but it was strained, Cornelius excusing himself after and leaving his office, locking the door behind him, and putting wards up to prevent Harry from wandering.  He then called Marpey, ordering it to watch Harry but remain unseen by him and gave it permission to do what was necessary to keep Harry confined to his office before heading off to see about a room being prepared for their young guest for the remainder of the summer.

3rd Summer-August 17th 1993

Fortescue's was, in Harry's mind, a wonderful place to finish up his homework.  Not only did the owner of the ice cream parlor know a lot about medieval witch burnings, he also gave Harry free sundaes every half hour.  The weather was not as hot as it had been in years past, rather the weather was dry like usual with summer but not unbearably so, the temperatures of what were known as the dog days of summer being cool.  He enjoyed being able to just relax...Hermione would be proud when she learned he'd done his homework during the summer and was taking, what she would undoubtedly call sensible classes instead of Divination like Ron was taking.  Granted, Harry had considered Divination at the end of his previous year, Ron saying it was an easy grade, but Harry wanted to know more about his parents and didn't believe in predicting the future, reading tea leaves or tarot cards.  

He'd talked Fudge into letting him go out for a bit on his own, though found Aurors and Ministry officials were always nearby, watching and keeping the teen supposedly safe from Black. Harry found it suffocating and wished he'd thought to wear his cloak more often but what harm could come to him in Diagon Alley when he was surrounded by dozens of adult witches and wizards?   As he was sitting at Fortescue's, an owl came towards him, landing on the table and knocking his milk over, clutching an envelope in its beak.  Harry removed it and the bird took off, the young boy seeing it was from Hogwarts.  He opened the envelope and pulled out a letter which he scanned, having to move the hat's bill around to the side as Fudge had insisted he wear a hat when he was going out to Diagon Alley and always stay in sight of an auror or hit wizard.

Dear Mr. Potter,

Third years will require the following items for the upcoming school year:

Replenished supply kit for Potions and Herbology

Replacement Pewter, standard size 2 Cauldron (if necessary)

Quills, ink, and parchment

Replacement glass or crystal phials for Potions

Necessary clothing consisting of muggle clothing, dragonhide gloves, robes, three winter cloaks, two summer cloaks, scarves, hats, etc.

Toiletries

The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 3 by Miranda Goshawk

Intermediate Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

The Essential Defense Against the Dark Arts by Arsenius Jigger

Wizarding Cultures of the World by Amelia Fey

Advanced Wizarding Society by Augustus Prince

Wizarding History of the Isles and Continent by Julius Washington

Pertaining to your electives, you will need to add the following books:

The Monster Book of Monsters by Edwardus Lima (for Care of Magical Creatures)

Spellman's Syllabary by Rosana Amorin (for Ancient Runes)

You might find the following books helpful for Runes and I recommend purchasing them Mr. Potter.

Ancient Runes Made Easy by Laurenzoo

Rune Dictionary

Remember, the train leaves from Platform 9 ¾ at 11:00 AM sharp on September 1st.  I do not want a repeat incident of last year Mr. Potter if you are unable to get through the platform. Otherwise, I shall see you at Hogwarts at the beginning of term.

Professor Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Harry found himself grateful for the recommended books that would help him within one of his electives this year and hoped to make his parents proud.   Knowing he needed to get his textbooks and school supplies, Harry got up and packed his history of magic textbook and parchment before looking at the hit wizard who was sitting nearby. "I'm going to Gringotts to get money so I can get school supplies," he said. The man lifted his scarred face to the child and nodded curtly, watching as Harry made his way to the junction where the south side of Diagon met with the north side.  It was only as he got to Gringotts that he realized that he had forgotten to get his key which was locked within his trunk back at the Dursleys in his old cupboard, well, assuming it was still there.   However, that thought brought back what he had done, and he shuddered as he walked into the bank, passing the guards on either side with their swords at their waists.

There was nothing for it but to go ahead and try to get into his vault without his key.  He couldn't return to the Dursleys, couldn't face what he had done, and so had to hope for the best that he would be allowed access to his vault.  Entering the bank, he was glad that there weren't a lot of people.  It meant that he should hopefully be able to get in and out easily plus have time to get his school supplies before the crowds began.  None paid the teen any attention to which he found himself grateful, yet he hung back and waited for the others to complete their transactions.  Once the bank had emptied of customers, Harry made his way to a teller and coughed.  The goblin looked up from the papers he was writing and peered down at Harry.  "What it is it wizard?"

"Sir, I'd like to get into my vault please," said Harry, remembering Hagrid's words about being respectful to the goblins if one wanted things to go smoothly. 

"Do you have your key?"

Harry shook his head.  "No sir.  I forgot it at my relatives."

"Then I'm afraid I can't help you." The goblin, in Harry's opinion, didn't look sorry about the fact that he couldn't help the young wizard standing before him. 

"Please.  I need access to my vault to get money for supplies."

"No key, no access to your vault," said the goblin.  The goblin turned back to the papers he had been looking over, causing Harry to frown.

"Sir, isn't there some way I can prove who I am?"

"This is a bank wizard, not a barrister," said the goblin.   "If you wish to prove your identity, you need to go to a barrister and without access to your vault, there is no way that can happen.  "Now, leave before I need to call security," said the goblin.   Harry frowned, leaving the counter and the goblin behind his mind while he tried to figure out what to do. He didn't even know if there were any barristers in the wizarding world, Ron nor Hermione having ever brought it up. Nor had any of his professors, not that Harry had asked.  Come to think of it, nobody has brought up careers after Hogwarts, thought Harry.  He refused to ask for  money from Minister Fudge as the man had already done enough for Harry, nor did he want to return to the Dursleys to retrieve his vault key.   Yet he knew he needed money to get his school supplies for the year, lest he get in trouble for not having them for he didn't doubt that any of his professors would take pity on him for what he had done. Snape sure wouldn't, the git. 

The bank was quiet but for the scratching of quills on parchment, Harry being the only customer.  Worry gnawed at him and therefore Harry did something rather stupid or arrogant as Snape might say and ran towards where he knew the carts were to take customers down to their respective vaults.  He managed to find an empty cart and jumped into it, though it was only then that he realized he didn't know how to steer it, however managed to figure it out before the goblins could get to him, the teen tossing a stunning spell over his shoulder at the goblins chasing him.   As the cart descended into the tunnels beneath Gringotts, it opened until they were looking down into a vast cavern.  It was like being on top of a roller coaster, though Harry certainly had never been on one for the Dursleys weren't one for amusement parks, given the size of Uncle Vernon and Dudley.  

Down into the darkness beneath Gringotts the cart went, Harry randomly moving levers and hoping the cart would remain on the tracks.   The cart went not only down but also did inversions which made his stomach twist into knots as each inversion put him momentarily upside down, yet even now at thirteen he still loved the Gringotts carts. It was like an adrenaline rush, almost like flying though nothing beat flying in Harry's opinion.   Everything underground was stone now, as if he were descending deeper into a mountain though knew that to be impossible since London was nowhere near any mountains.  Taking a turn around a bend as the cart descended deeper, Harry peered down and saw a waterfall falling into the abyss below him, a waterfall which would soon spell disaster for the young third-year.  

What is that? The thought briefly crossed his mind as he turned the bend, turning to look behind him at the waterfall.  Where does the water come from, this far underground?  Harry clung to the levers as the cart hurtled down a hill and then spun before passing through the waterfall which unknowingly washed away the glamor that had been on him for the past thirteen years.  Soaked to the skin, the water being like ice, the next thing Harry knew was he was falling into the chasm below as the cart derailed off the tracks, falling to the bottom of the chasm as well, the wind rushing past Harry's ears.   The cart fell faster than Harry did, the teen not even registering that he had gone past his own vault and a surge of fear flew through him as he realized that he didn't hear the cart crash or hit the bottom.  How deep is this? Did I...no...there's no other way to get to my vault.  But I don't even know...

His thoughts were cut off as he slammed into the stone floor beneath him, a sharp crack renting the air and pain surged up his wrist and leg, Harry turning his gaze to see that his leg was bent awkwardly.  It had to be on the leg where he had a scar as well from Ripper when he was five during Aunt Marge's visit as well and Harry knew he wouldn't be walking anywhere.  He'd gotten a wrist before when Dudley had pushed him off the jungle gym at primary school, so he remembered the pain. Harry had been forced to write with his left hand, which was a struggle as he was right-handed. His relatives certainly wouldn't have let him take off school to recover and his chores had been difficult as well. When he attempted to move, a sharp pain wracked leg, causing him to cry out in pain and lay back down on the cave floor, the rough stone cool beneath him with how far underground he was.  

Footsteps were the first thing to bring the teen around, his head having been resting on the cold stone, but as he looked up he saw several goblins with swords and spears pointed at him.  The goblins all stared at the teenager, some emotionless, others with anger evident on their features which made the goblins look even more fearsome.  "So wizard, you aren't even the person you claim to be," said one of the goblins.  "Not only did you try to steal gold from a vault that you had no access to, let alone have somehow managed to access it in these past two years but you stole a Gringotts cart and attacked a goblin."

Harry was confused by everything the lead goblin was saying.  "Please...I think my leg..."

"That is not our concern wizard.   Such a slight on our part concerning our security will be corrected but you must face punishment for these transgressions."

Again, Harry's mind was a blank as the goblin in charge of this expedition spoke, the others remaining quiet yet in a circle, a circle that drew in as Harry attempted to move, the weapons facing inward towards him.   He knew he couldn't get far on a broken leg, nor could he hope to navigate his way back to the surface.   He had not brought his broom with him; therefore he had no way to fly out of here either.  "I don't understand," Harry said, his voice belying the confusion that he felt.  "How do I not have access to my parents' vault? I'm Harry Potter. I offered to prove it but the goblin teller I spoke to wouldn't let me."

"This is a bank wizard, not a barrister. We do not do wills or inheritance tests," said another goblin and as Harry looked, he saw it was Griphook speaking.  "Sir, I think it is time a punishment be decided. This young wizard's actions, of attacking another goblin, could have potentially started another war with wizards and goblins."

"No! That wasn't my..." But Harry fell silent as a spear stopped inches from his face, yet again he felt that strange emotion of anger boil in him at these lesser creatures daring to harm him.  He blinked, trying to swipe the anger away and yet beneath his anger was fear mixed with pain at his predicament. 

"What would you suggest Griphook?"

Griphook stared at Harry with no amount of disdain on his face before speaking.  "Throw him to the dragons and let him earn his death by fire," said Griphook.  There were murmurs around Harry before his hands and ankles were tied behind his back, his leg being bent backwards and causing a scream to echo from the adolescent before he was hogtied and then levitated behind them, this being the first time that Harry knew that Goblins could use magic.  He found that he couldn't get out of it, and struggle he did, and this only heightened his fear and anger before he felt something wash over him and he faded once more into unconsciousness.

There was a sharp knock on the door of Number Four, the hot blood having congealed and cooled as time passed within the house of the Dursley family.  Days passed as the family of three sat there in abject horror, none moving except for Petunia who tossed Ripper outside when the sounds of tearing flesh echoed in the room, and she noticed the dog eating the remains of Marge Dursley.  Only when the knock sounded again and louder at that did Petunia rise from the table and stumble in a daze towards the front door which she opened. There were two men, one dressed in a long robe, and one dressed in muggle clothing from the forties. Still in shock at what her nephew had done, she'd always known he was a freak like his mother, she barely registered that these must be wizards.   "Does Mrs. Dursley live here?"

Mutely she nodded, unable to find any words. It was the first time in a while that Petunia Dursley had been rendered speechless.  "We're here about your nephew, Harry Potter," said one of the Aurors.  "My name's Shacklebolt and this is Thames," he said, gesturing towards his companion. "May we come in Mrs. Dursley?"

Again, Petunia nodded, stepping aside though there was the faint tightening of mouth into a thin line as the pair of wizards entered the Dursley residence. "We never wanted the freak," she said, not denying that the boy lived there though after he had killed Marge, Petunia certainly never wanted to see her nephew again.  What kind of monster blew someone up?  "I don't know where he is but we're not taking him back...you can tell Dumbledore that as well or whoever in your lot's government.  He's gone too far this time."

Shacklebolt looked at Thames in surprise. Appointed by the Minster to check this out and sworn to unbreakable vows to mention why they were here at the Dursleys, let alone about Harry Potter being at the Ministry and even being under the Minster's protection, they were unable to say anything to anyone, not even their boss Amelia Bones, lest they lose their lives.  Both men entered the home which was the same as all the others on the exterior, as if whoever had designed this Muggle neighborhood had no creative mind other than to make cookie cutter homes divided only by house numbers, Thames shutting the door behind them.  "We understand there's been an...accident," said Thames. "Where's the body?"

"Some of it is undoubtedly in Marge's dog Ripper," said Petunia, shuddering in disgust.   "I threw the mutt out when I noticed Ripper eating what remained of his owner. Though I can't say Marge is any loss...horrible woman she is."  Petunia ignored the dried gore on her clothes and face, the woman leading them to the dining room were the two Aurors stopped in horror at what they saw.  A large beefy man and equally large son were sitting at the table, food untouched and covered in blood and visceral, blood splattering the table, floor, and walls.  Pieces of raw flesh, the blood cooled and congealed and the stench of death and rotting flesh at that as decay had set in permeated the room.  Both father and son, for there was no denying the resemblance, appeared what Muggles might call shell shocked but both wizards knew this was impossible since Muggles didn't experience such things. It was a well-known fact that wizards were superior in every way to Muggles, that they had to struggle through life and were more susceptible to disease and injury that a wizard or witch could easily cure within the span of minutes, if not hours.   Heck, they were still trapped within the thirties or forties period wise.  Oh, how wrong the British populace were concerning their vastly outnumbering mundane counterparts.

It was Kingsley who investigated both Petunia and Vernon's minds, his face twisting into a frown as he watched  Marge insulting the Potters and went further back in time to see how their young savior had been treated.  Thames went to examine the remains before turning and muttering a spell, cleaning the Dursleys of the caked-on blood and visage from their persons.   Even Vernon, who hated freaks as he called them, didn't have anything in him to say about the freaks in his house, still stunned at what his nephew had done to his sister.   Regardless, there was the unmistakable flinch from people scared of magic when Thames pointed his wand at each of the Dursleys in turn and cleaned them off before producing a camera and taking pictures of the crime scene as it were, Thames being a half-blood whose father was in law enforcement in the Muggle world knowing how important it was to preserve the scene of the crime.  He then investigated the young walrus's mind, going back further into the boy's mind to see the boy hitting Potter or getting the smaller boy in trouble and both his parents encouraging the behavior.  There were instances of the boy driving away children from Potter by bullying or threatening them, of Dudley and his gang harassing younger children and beating them up in the neighborhood, only to blame it on the Potter boy.

Both men were sick as they cast body bind curses on all three individuals and a silencing spell so they could talk in private about what to do, Kingsley producing vials from his cloak and pulling out the memories in question concerning the incident of Marge's death before pocketing them.  "The fat walrus, eh Mr. Dursley, has a fear and hatred of magic," said Kingsley to Thames.   "And the giraffe horse hybrid seems to have jealousy issues since before Harry was born, towards her sister which have been thrown onto her nephew all these years.  It seems they used to lock the boy in a cupboard until he started receiving letters from Hogwarts.  Petunia hit the boy over the head with a frying pan when he was little it seems and the boy," he gestured to Dudley, "is a spoiled brat who could do to lose a few stones. These people essentially treated the Potter boy like a house elf or a slave." 

Thames frowned at this information, understanding what Kingsley met.  "What should we do about the child?" He threw a murderous look at Dudley.

"Obliviate them of what happened which is standard procedure for magical accidents around Muggles," said Kingsley.   "After we get this mess cleaned up. But for now, we'll keep them all in body binds, so they don't cause trouble. As for the little whale of a boy, he's not much good as a slave though Muggles generally aren't kept as slaves in the UK wizarding world.   I say we obliviate him of ever having parents and the Dursleys of ever having known of Harry or having a son and ship him across the pond somewhere."

"Yeah...my dad says they have something in the states called foster care," said Thames.  "Or we just leave them in their body binds and set the house ablaze with them inside it."

"We aren't Death Eaters Markus," said Shacklebolt, addressing his partner by his first name.   "You can get a port key to somewhere in the states, right?"

"Yeah...it'll be expensive, but I'll take care of it."

"Right, I'll oblivate the parents then and get this mess cleaned up and we'll met back at the Ministry." Thames nodded and pointed his wand at Dudley before casting a memory charm, taking away memories of ever knowing of Harry Potter being his cousin and the Dursleys being his parents. It meant stripping thirteen years of memories, which was a tricky business, but Thames was proficient in it.   Once the child had been obliviated, he took Dudley by the arm and dragged the boy outside to the backyard and then disapparted when he was hidden from sight.  Kingsley muttered a few spells, waving his wand in a few complicated movements and had the mess vanished from the residence before turning to the Dursleys.

"Halfblood sir since Mr. Potter took a Muggleborn as his wife," said another goblin.

"For the crimes of stealing from a former pureblood family, turned halfblood as a result of the former Potter head marrying a halfblood, for impersonating the child of said former pureblood house, stealing a goblin cart, attempted theft of a vault, two years of theft from said vault and attacking a goblin guard with a stunning spell...you have hereby been sentenced to death by dragon fire," said an old goblin.  "Let the crime be carried out as witnessed by some of the British colony," said the goblin.  The clankers then stopped and for a moment there was an uneasy silence broken only by intermittent growls and a tail dragging across the ground as the blind dragon walked, only for another younger dragon to appear from the shadows on Harry's left and he attempted to stand but pain jolted up his leg and with a cry Harry fell back onto the ground.   

In desperation, he began crawling, head lifted and eyes searching for any way out of the pit, but he was nowhere near fast enough to escape the shuffling footfalls of the two dragons behind him.  Some of the walls were slick with water, making an ascent impossible, even if Harry's leg wasn't broken.  There was no way he could possibly get a foothold, much less climb up the cliff.  Looking up, he could see eyes peering down at him, both dark eyes from the goblins and glittering colored eyes as well for Harry realized in horror and too late at that, that a couple younger dragons were coming out of caves built into the rock and staring down at him, one landing down in front of him and Harry had to close his eyes momentarily as a gust of wind washed over him.   When he next opened them, he saw the dragon begin to open its mouth, felt the heat of its breath and the flickers of flame appearing in its maw.  Though it was tough to see within the darkness, Harry glanced to his right to see another dragon standing beside him....and then there was only fire...fire and pain...and Harry screamed, a scream that was drowned out by the roars of the dragons as the flames consumed him.

5th Year-September 1, 1995

The noise was deafening as students spilled into the Great Hall and took their seats at the four house tables, chatting about what they had done over the summer as Professor McGonagall made her way to fetch the first years who would be arriving momentarily.   There were two new faces at Hogwarts this year, a plump woman who looked like a toad dressed in pink and a man with pale skin and ashen blond hair pulled back in a ponytail who was dressed in a crisp navy-blue suit, his gaunt appearance a stark contrast to the woman who sat a couple seats down from him.  Aurors had come to the Ministry to take care of the rumored ‘curse' on the DADA position at Hogwarts a couple weeks before the school year started by destroying a cursed object in a hidden room, known to the house-elves as the ‘come and go' room. The headmaster had been unable to stop both the Aurors and the Unspeakables from tearing the room apart and deciding to examine it for themselves but there was of course no way to remove an entire hidden room from Hogwarts nor any way to interfere with the magic of the castle.  The cursed object, on the other hand had been an object of myth and legend, a diadem that once belonging to Rowena Ravenclaw as foretold by the ghost Helena Ravenclaw, her descendant who was the house ghost of the smart house at Hogwarts.

After the sorting had taken place and the tables filled with food and drink of all sorts for the Welcoming Feast held every year, the headmaster stood up and looked over the student body, his face falling momentarily as he didn't find the missing student he sought.   Perhaps it was time to turn to the second prophecy child, young Mr. Longbottom.   Though the Dark Lord had not yet come back, Dumbledore knew his former student wouldn't stop at nothing to return to power. Nevertheless, Dumbledore put on a brave and warm smile for his students, the hall falling silent as faces turned towards him.  "Welcome back to another year at Hogwarts for our returning students and for our new first years, welcome to Hogwarts.  As you can see we have a returning staff member this year who will once again be taking over Care of Magical Creatures, Professor Grubbly-Plank," he said, gesturing towards the elderly witch who sat to the immediate right of Headmaster Dumbledore.  She stood and nodded briefly to the student body before once more taking her seat. 

"We also have two new professors to the staff this year and I am pleased to announce the curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts position has been lifted."

"Maybe we'll actually have a competent teacher for once," said Fred.

"Professor Lupin wasn't that bad," spoke up Dean. "Better than that nutter Professor Moody last year."

"Shush," said Hermione, glaring at the two boys.

"I'd like you all to welcome our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Dolores Umbridge."  The toad-faced woman chuckled to herself, causing Snape to turn his gaze towards her.  "I'm sure you'll all join me in wishing the professor good luck.  Our second..."

"Hem hem," came a girlish voice and Dumbledore looked around to see a woman stand up from her chair and walk around the staff table until she was standing in front of the students, holding a pink purse against her torso, a strange creature trailing along beside her, a collar around the animal's neck.  It looked like a hybrid between a fox and some type of bird, the fox's fur being light orange with white platinum markings being a white belly, white feet, a white ring around the neck, white blaze on its forehead and white muzzle.  Light blue and white feathers trailed down the fox's upper neck from the back of the head, spreading down to its shoulders and partly down its back, the rump feathers branching out into tail feathers that went a quarter of the way down its tail and then circled around both sides to continue down the underside of the tail.  Black talons adorned his digits and inside his mouth were a pair of fangs with horns adorning the creature's head. 

"Thank you, Headmaster, for those wonderful words of wisdom," said Dolores as she stopped walking, thereby causing the strange hybrid to stop as well.  "And may I say how lovely it is to see all your smiling and bright, happy faces looking up at me.  I'm sure we'll all be the very best of friends."

"Not likely," muttered Fred and George at the Gryffindor table. The Great Hall was completely silent as students of all four houses and the staff watched the spectacle before them. The majority were staring in disbelief that this woman stood there and dared interrupt the headmaster and none were smiling but Dolores appeared to ignore that or be oblivious.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance.  Although each headmaster has brought something to this historic school," and here Dolores momentarily nodded at Dumbledore who inclined his head, "progress for the sake of progress must be discouraged."  There were a few disbelieving glances from the students at this information as Dolores continued.  "Let us preserve what must be preserved, perfect what can be perfected, and prune practices that ought to be...prohibited."  She chuckled at the end of her speech before Dumbledore spoke. 

"Yes, thank you Dolores," said Dumbledore, rather relieved that the Ministry worker had shut up.  "Ah yes, why you are up here...students you will all undoubtedly see the creature by Professor Umbridge.  This creature is not to be bothered," here he looked at the Weasley twins, "by any house," he continued, his gaze then sliding over to the Slytherin table.  "This is a class five creature and belongs to Professor Umbridge." 

"So, the creature's like a pet?" A student called from the Ravenclaw table.

"No, it is a slave," said Dolores, "as are any descendants it has," said Dolores. The staff for their part ignored the gasps from the muggleborns at this comment and Dolores returned to her seat, the creature following his mistress and once more resumed his place underneath the table, curling up to try to get more comfortable.  

"Now, another notice that I imagine everyone will be pleased about is Binns has been fired from his position and forced to move on," said Dumbledore.  This brought groans from the rest of the school that depended on History of Magic being naptime.  "I am here to announce our new professor, Chervil Crow.  Professor Crow suffers from a rare skin condition and thus classes for History of Magic will be held at night for all students this year.  Again, I ask all students to wish Professor Crow good luck in his new position and trust you will all help make him feel welcome.  The Ministry is also no longer requiring no more than the first three years of astronomy.  Now, tuck in and then it's off to bed."  There was polite clapping from some of the students as the gaunt man got to his feet and bowed to the school before sitting back down, the meal and chatter beginning once again with a few glances shot towards their new professors but also to the creature underneath the table.