Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

It was a brisk fall evening that found a young boy named Harry Potter trailing behind his relatives on his first ever trip to London.

He tried his best to ignore the looks of anger or disbelief directed at his eight year old self as he kept no less than a meter behind his guardians; one Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. His Aunt was currently holding onto his cousin Dudley's hand while she gushed on and on about how proud of Dudley she was and Dudley just licked a large chocolate ice cream cone that smeared his mouth and shirt with patches of brown. Harry was seen as an outcast, a freak, to their perfect little family and they did their best to not only remind him of that, but to show the world as well. It was this blatant disregard for Harry -not the boy himself- that caused others to stare, but the Dursleys themselves paid no mind.

Harry used to believe he was a freak like his relatives constantly said he was, but a few years at primary had made him question if that were true. While there were a few odd things that happened around him, he certainly wasn't stranger than any of his classmates. Well…he didn't think so anyway. What he did find different was that he lacked a family that cared for him like his classmates' had. He longed for the feeling of want and belonging and, like most love starved children, continued to do everything he could to please his relatives in the vain hope that someday...he would be good enough for them to finally love him like family.

Uncle Vernon was leading -though with his large girth it looked more like waddling- the group back to his car to drive home for the night. While the man saw himself as very well to do, he always went for the cheapest and fastest route to achieve his means whenever possible. Tonight, this meant walking back to a car park in a location just bordering on disreputable in London.

Harry saw the men come out of the alleyway almost immediately. Being chased down by Dudley and his gang of bullies all his life made his eyes jump towards sudden movements as that was often all the warning he got before they pounced. He didn't think anything of them though until they approached his uncle head on. They didn't look like muggers or any sort of criminal, and that was probably why his Aunt and Uncle didn't seem bothered by them either. All three men were dressed in suits of muted gray colors with white vests; the most well to do of them having unusually bright and long white hair that Harry could tell was held back in two low ponytails. The white haired man also used a walking cane, though it seemed to be just for show and looked rather like the 'Lords' on his aunt's shows.

"Pardon me good sir," The man with white hair addressed Uncle Vernon, "are you perhaps headed to the car park around the corner?"

"Why yes," Vernon stated while he held himself a bit straighter, "just taking the family home. Is something the matter?"

The man nodded and passed a business card to his uncle. "Well you see, I own the 'Looking Glass' antique shop just next door to it, and I'm afraid my associates here locked my keys inside. Neither of them is very strong and, as you seem to be a man of considerable strength, I was hoping you wouldn't mind helping to give the back door a good shove." There was a long pause as Uncle Vernon considered the request.

"I'd of course be happy to return your kindness by giving you an item from my store as a repayment for the inconvenience. You'd be saving me an awful bit of trouble dealing with a locksmith," the man pleaded.

The enticement of a valuable reward was all his Uncle Vernon needed of course, and they were quickly led to the backdoor of the shop. Aunt Petunia glanced back once to make sure Harry was still following along, though after she did he began to lag behind a bit more. He didn't like the feel of this. There was a twisting in his stomach like he might sick up, but he knew better than to voice his opinion. His opinions were like questions in the Dursley family. Something that should never be spoken aloud and were quickly punished if deemed unacceptable.

Uncle Vernon was able to break open the door with little effort, and while the seemingly grateful man led the group in to give them a reward, the other two men closed in behind the Dursleys. The last one through the door was about to shut it, but as he gave a look around he noticed Harry and appeared to be shocked -as if just noticing him for the first time- before quickly smiling and motioning him to come in as well. The feeling in his stomach was getting worse now as the man closed the door behind Harry, and he quickly moved to rejoin his relatives to put some distance between himself and the man near the door. Just as he was entering the room he'd heard noises coming from, Harry watched as the white haired man and his other associate sprayed something in the Dursleys’ faces. All three of them suddenly had blank and dazed expressions which allowed the two men to grab them by their arms, and push them out of Harry's view.

"No!" Harry gasped.

It was a word he knew quite well, as often as he was told it, but hadn't dared utter in years. He may dislike his relatives, but they were all he had! Uncle Vernon had threatened to take him to an orphanage too many times to number and while Harry sometimes wondered if perhaps it might be better off then sleeping in a broom cupboard, he never really wanted to find out.

The two men spun around and the white haired one glared as he bit out, "Grab him too. I don't know where he came from, but we can't leave him here."

Harry ran.

Even with as much time as he'd spent running from his cousin he was no match for the long strides of these adults and Harry yelped as he was grabbed from behind. The man had wrapped his arms around Harry -pinning his own arms at his sides- and ignored his kicking and squirming to get out of his grasp. Harry pulled and twisted with all his eight year old might as his captor walked back to join the white haired man, and his heart pounded loudly in his ears. This wasn't good. He couldn't do anything to escape, but he definitely didn't want to go anywhere these obviously bad men were trying to take him. He needed to get out of the man's hold and get away. It was all he could think of as he struggled for breath and scrunched his eyes closed as he attempted to free himself. Harry didn't reflect on how it happened until much later, but all of a sudden there was a loud bang and he was soaring out of his captor's arms.

It was like an explosion without the fire. The other men were knocked back and items of all sorts flew about the room. Harry had only a few seconds to brace himself as he went flying towards a large mirror propped up on the wall. He curled up into a ball to hit it when he quite suddenly... fell through it instead.

Harry gasped for breath as he finally landed on a patch of grass after seeming to fall for forever. His glasses fell off from the impact and he quickly picked them up and shoved them back on as he ran from the room. He had no idea what had just happened or where he was, but he knew the bad men would try and find him. Find him and do something horrible to him like they had done with the Dursleys no doubt. Scared as he was, Harry couldn't feel sorry for them. They'd never been kind to him and this was a time to think about his own safety. He'd worry about his relatives later.

His baggy cast-offs from his larger cousin caused him to trip up more than once as Harry tried to find some way out of the rundown building he was in. Water covered the ground and echoed down the hallways as he splashed through it while looking for an exit. A tiny jolt of hope coursed through him then as he finally saw light pouring in from a set of double doors just ahead. He slowed down so he could quietly open the door and stopped to catch his breath.

Harry couldn't hear anyone coming yet. Maybe they'd been knocked out or hurt earlier during the not explosion? He risked the time to look around for just a minute or two as he took in large gulps of air. The water here was like a big puddle -not deep but it covered most of his trainers- and all sorts of wiring, plants, and odd bits hung from the ceiling.

Where was he? How did he get here? It looked nothing like the antique store anymore.

Then he heard it; voices coming from somewhere in the building. Pushing down his rising fear of being somewhere strange and all alone, Harry quietly opened one of the doors and stepped outside to receive yet another shock.

While there was pavement, there were no roads outside these doors. About a meter of pavement was all that stood between him and the edge of what looked to be a very, very long fall. How had he gotten so high up when he clearly remembered falling?! Looking right, Harry could see the pavement wrapped around the building and led to a more open expanse with a few trees and grass. Quickly deciding that area looked much safer, he carefully made his way over as fast as he dared. Thankfully he wasn't afraid of how high up he now seemed to be, heights had never bothered him for some reason, but Harry was a little worried that he wouldn't survive a fall off this impossibly high ledge.

Once he reached the open space, his eyes darted about and he looked for somewhere to hide. Seeing a set of worn down stairs at the far side, Harry quickly made his way over and crawled as far under them as his little frame would allow; tucking himself into a ball and pressing his back against the cement wall when he could go no further. He closed his eyes and took quiet shallow breaths so he could listen better for the bad men or any others that might be out there. It was only after he didn't hear anything for several minutes that his mind began to wander to all the other important facts he'd pushed aside to focus on finding a safe spot.

He was in a strange place that he'd never been to before. Not something hard for him to do really since he was rarely allowed anywhere besides the house on Privet Drive and school, but this place -this city- didn't look anything like London! His relatives were also gone, possibly dead for all he knew, which meant he was all alone. While the Dursleys never really cared for him, they'd at least kept him somewhat fed and sheltered all his life.

The weight of his situation fully upon him now, Harry began to do something he hadn't done in a long time. His once calm breathing hitched in spasms as he let out soft sobs and buried his face into his knees. Harry gripped his arms around his legs in the only form of comfort he knew and sobbed for the scary suddenness of his new situation. All too soon it was like a flood gate had opened however, as he cried and cried like it was all he could ever do again.

How long Harry cried for he didn't know, but it felt like a lifetime had passed until he heard soft footfalls approach his hiding spot. He tried to will himself to stop crying as he wiped the tears from his face and attempted to take deep breaths, but only managed to reduce his sobs to gasping hiccups. The dark shapes that appeared outside of the stairwell looked to be two sets of legs in the dim light and as they stopped right in front of it, a new light - from a torch most likely - lit up the ground at their feet before shining into Harry's hiding spot. He squinted as he held his arm up to block the painful sensation of the sudden change in lighting on his eyes.

"Who's tha’ in there?" a man's voice called suspiciously from the other end of the flashlight.

"Looks like some kid, Ratty," another male voice commented, "think he's that oyster boy the white rabbit's looking for?"

"Nah, light's not markin' him or nothin', can't be no oyster," the first man retorted, "Prolly just some kid that's lost his folks. What's your name, boy?"

Harry didn't answer them as he was still trying to compose himself. They didn't seem like the men who'd done this to him, but did that make them any better?

"We won't hurt you lad," the second man calmly stated, "Why don't you come on out so we can get a better look at you? Help you get home."

Home. Where was home anymore? How would this man find it when Harry wasn’t even sure himself? He stayed where he was as the men continued to wait for him to do anything. From what little he could see they looked nothing like the men from the shop. Maybe...maybe they really would help him. Besides, where could he go? And what if they got angry and yanked him from his hiding spot? Better to risk it and run off if they tried anything than be captured again. With that decided, Harry slowly crawled out from under the stairs.

"There ya go, that's a good lad," the soothing sounding second man said as he helped Harry stand up once he was out.

In the bright moonlight Harry could see both men better. The one without the torchlight had a smile on his face with short light brown hair, and wore a light blue suit that looked well kept. The other was looking curiously at him and wore a slicker. He had a generally grungy appearance about him with stringy oily hair under a dirty floppy hat that Harry didn’t like much.

"Well…can't say I've seen you before," the man in the suit commented.

"Aye," the other one -Ratty- agreed, "Hair looks a bit like Hatter's though don' it? Maybe he's a relation?"

The man in the suit shot Ratty a skeptical glance before giving Harry a closer look and nodding slowly as he hummed. "You may be right about that actually. Parents are likely tea heads at least. Lad probably got left behind when they left to score a fix and then got scared. Can't hurt to take him by. It’s as good of a guess as any I suppose." The man blew out a breath then before continuing, “it would certainly be a relief to think there’s one less ledge dodger out there.”

"Let's be getting goin' then," Ratty agreed, "best to get there 'fore too late and Hatter closes shop."

The man in the suit smiled down at Harry once more and said, "Come on lad, hopefully we can find your folks, and if not, then Hatter may have a place for you."

Harry stared at the man as he offered his hand out to hold. He knew they wouldn't find his parents at wherever they wanted to take him. His parents had died in a car crash and were the reason for his living with the Dursleys in the first place. This other person though, Hatter. They said Harry looked a bit like him. He’d never looked like anyone before and had certainly never seen anyone with messy hair like his in his life. Harry felt a small burst of hope as a long favorite wish of his popped in his mind, but he tried to stamp it down. There was a chance this could all be a dream -it was certainly strange like one- but that long wished for hope had been ignited by the man’s words. Someone that looked like him…maybe he did have another family?

Feeling more hopeful than he had since even before he’d been taken to London, Harry made up his mind and took the outstretched hand.

The section of one of the many towering buildings of this city that the pair led Harry to had one of those electric LED signs above the awning that he'd seen in some parts of London earlier that day and proclaimed the place to be a 'Tea Shop'. Well Harry definitely felt he could use a good cup of tea so that sounded alright. He'd even drink some of Mrs. Figg's bitter black tea right about now. It was hard to see much in the dark, but the trip through this strange city had been filled with trees, grass, and other assorted plants growing all over the place like the pavement and walls. They’d even passed under exposed tree roots from the level above at one point. Harry was fairly certain his school teachers had said plants, and certainly trees, didn’t work that way.

The two men had chatted about some rabbit and an upset from the Queen on the walk here, but Harry hadn’t paid it much attention. He really didn't care if a rabbit made the Queen angry. Not that he knew how that could have happened anyway. Maybe it ate her carrots? Aunt Petunia had once complained about the neighbor's rabbit doing as much to her prized garden before so it seemed likely. Both men seemed pleased enough to ignore Harry as they'd walked together, but he hadn’t minded. Between taking in the sights of this strange city and thinking about everything that had happened, Harry hadn’t been much for talking. He found it easier to simply fall back on the habits instilled by his relatives and keep his thoughts and questions to himself.

While the pale moonlight helped hide the extent of the drop, Harry had yet to see anything wider than three meters or so of pavement during his walk. Maybe it was just London that didn't build pavements way up high off the ground? It seemed like a nice way to avoid cars at least. As they walked up the steps of the Tea Shop, he could see a man in a light colored hat shoving a couple out the door while they just looked about in a daze. It reminded Harry of how the Dursleys had looked when he’d last seen them and he shuddered, moving to stand behind the blue suited man whose hand he still grasped.

"Lovely to have you," the man in the hat smiled, "come back tomorrow, yeah?" He looked over and quickly took in Harry and both the men with him before addressing them. "Ratty. Pen. I'm closin' up shop. You'll have to come back in the morning."

"Actually, Hatter," the man in the suit -or more appropriately Mr. Pen Harry mentally noted- stated, "We're not here for tea."

"Well I don’ know about that, Pen," Ratty fidgeted.

Mr. Pen’s lips went tight as he narrowed his eyes at Ratty. "Well I'm not, so leave Ratty out here if you like, but I need your help with something." He then gave a quick glance down at Harry.

Hatter looked at Harry a bit longer this time and raised an eyebrow at Mr. Pen. "Alright, but only a mo'." He let them pass, promptly closing the door in front of Ratty and locked the many chains and bolts behind them. "Night Ratty," he yelled through the locked door before turning back to look at Mr. Pen and Harry with a wide grin, "Let's take this to me office, yeah?"

Mr. Pen nodded and followed after Hatter with Harry, still holding his hand, in tow. The lights were dim inside this Tea Shop, but he could make out several worn tables lined up on the right with neatly stacked chairs against them, along with more of those electric signs on the back wall. Instead of carpet or wood, the floor inside here was a well worn dirt path with grass sparsely lining the edges and around the bases of the tables. They even had a few weeds mixed in them. Aunt Petunia wouldn’t have dared enter any store kept in such strange and dirty conditions, but both Mr. Pen and Hatter didn’t seem bothered by having their outdoors and indoors mixing at all.

They passed through a darker lit twisting hallway before entering a wide open back room. White metal duct work was clearly visible above him, but the floor here slowly changed from the packed dirt of the front rooms to a lush patch of grass about the same size as the front garden at the Dursleys house. Though not nearly as well kept as it came up to Harry’s knees in some spots. Hatter walked around a glass desk in the middle of the room and sat down behind it. Pen had stopped right in front of the desk, and Harry with him. Slouching into his chair, Hatter propped his feet up on his desk, grabbed a tea cup off of it and he took a sip before setting it back down.

The lights here were brighter than in the rest of the shop, and Harry was finally able to get a good look at this Hatter person. He was dressed in a brown leather jacket with dark slacks and a multi-toned shirt with some sort of swirling design on it. While Harry had noticed the hat on his head earlier -and just now the other odder ones on a clear wardrobe to his left- it was seeing Hatter's hair that caused a fluttering butterfly of hope to sore through him. Though it wasn’t black like Harry's, it was a sort of black brown and the bits escaping from under Hatter’s hat stuck out at odd angles from his head just like Harry's did. Some longer parts even curled above the brim of his hat!

"Suppose it's the boy you need help with," Hatter finally said and it broke Harry out of his musings "Can't say I blame you with hair as charmin' as my own, but I've never seen 'im before. He need an escort to the library I suppose?"

Mr. Pen sighed, "Possibly. Ratty and I found him a few blocks away hiding under some stairs near the white rabbit building. We were combing the area for that missing oyster when we found him."

"And you didn't think that maybe he, was in fact, the missin' oyster boy?" Hatter inquired as he took his feet off the desk and leaned forward, resting his head on his interlocked hands.

"Light doesn't mark him," Mr. Pen shrugged, "So it can't be. Once we got him to come out we figured he looked a bit like you. Thought there might be a family connection, or if not, that maybe his parents were tea heads and you might have seen them."

Hatter leaned back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the desk while he stared at Harry. Harry felt it wasn't a bad stare, and his Uncle Vernon had given him plenty to know what they were like. This looked much like how Harry thought he might look when he was thinking hard about a problem in school. Hatter didn't spend long staring at him before he stood back up and leaned against his palms on the desk.

"Well...I'll do what I can Pen," Hatter decided as he walked back around his desk. Mr. Pen gently released Harry's hand and gave a sigh of relief while Harry nervously let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

"Thanks, Hatter," Pen smiled, "I owe you."

"And don't I know it," Hatter grinned as he turned Mr. Pen around and wrapped his arm across his shoulders, "Not makin' any promises, but I'll speak with Dormie and the lot in the morning and see what we can't find out, yeah? I'll let you know how it goes." Hatter then started walking Mr. Pen back the way they'd entered. "Have ta lock you out now, house rules," Hatter said and let go of Pen to turn to look at Harry. "You be alright here for a mo'?" he asked and Harry just nodded, "Right, go on and have a seat then and I'll be back."

Harry did as Hatter suggested and sat down on the white couch just behind him on his right. It was a bit high up, and his feet barely touched the ground, but it was very comfy. So much so that even with the many questions bubbling about his brain now, he began to feel his long day catching up to him and he felt the urge to just lay down and fall asleep right there. It was so much more comfortable than his tiny cot in the cupboard under the stairs, bigger too.

His eyes shot back open when he heard Hatter come back in the room. Harry watched the man come over and hunch down right in front of him before he gave him a wide smile.

"Well, I don't think we've been properly introduced you and I," Hatter commented, "Name's Hatter, David Hatter if you like, but everyone just calls me Hatter."

While not normally one for questions, Harry couldn’t help but feel at ease in the man’s presence -with his calm words and happy smiles- so he softly asked with a small smile of his own, "Is it because you wear a hat?"

Hatter chuckled and grabbed his hat off his head. He twirled it in his hands a few times before looking at Harry and flicking it up in the air. It flew up a foot or two before it somehow turned around and landed neatly back on his head. "Sometimes it is yeah," Hatter finally replied, "but how about you? What's your name?"

"Harry," he quickly answered before breaking out into a yawn, "Harry Potter."

Hatter grinned, "Is that because you pot things?"

Harry easily smiled back at the man’s joke. He already felt more comfortable with this Hatter than he had ever remembered feeling at the Dursleys. The butterfly of hope inside of his chest had gained friends now, and they were flying around wildly. Feeling bold for the first time in a long time he attempted to joke back, "Sometimes, yeah."

"Right then, Harry," Hatter clapped his hands together, "Let's get ya comfy for the night and then we'll see how things fly in the morning, alright?" Harry nodded tiredly and he let Hatter lay him down on the couch.

As this man who Harry had known for less than an hour or so tucked a blanket around him, a warmth spread through Harry as his eyes drifted closed and sleep began to overtake him. His last thought as he felt his glasses being removed from his face was wondering if this feeling was what being cared for felt like.