Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter 1: Ponderings of a (Mad) Potter

Harry Potter, wasn’t stupid nor naive, despite what his ignorant relatives and the majority of Hogwarts thought, including his best friends, Ron and Hermione. Although, to be fair to Hermione, he suspected she was starting to put the clues together.

He wouldn’t have had survived his young life with the Dursleys, if so. He had simply learned to hide his intelligence after working out that any grades better than his pig in a wig cousin, Dudley, would get him a sound thrashing. He quickly learned as a young boy how to read the Dursleys often mercurial moods, either by body language or tone of voice, otherwise a smack to the head would be the least of his worries. He had early on in life learned to hide his feelings from his family and developed a façade of nonchalance. Merlin, knows that somehow the only intelligence the Dursley’s had ever shown was to lock onto him when he was feeling out of sorts.

Harry knew asking questions or just generally being underfoot when not completing the mile-long chore list his Aunt Petunia gave him, was a quick way to get stuffed in his cupboard without meals and caned. As such, he had soon learned that being out of the house, when not completing said chores was the ideal way not to die an early demise at the morbidly obese hands of his uncle and no, unfortunately, he wasn’t being dramatic.

Most that knew him would be shocked to find out that the library was where he could be found more often than naught. A place that Dudley and his band of budding psychopaths wouldn’t dare to trouble him. The library became a place of solace for him, a place where he didn’t have to pretend, and could just be.

It was here he truly grew up, in between the stacks of the Little Whinging Library, where he honed his intelligence and began learning the art of deductive reasoning via the readings of Sherlock Holmes, becoming more observant and perceptive day by day. He learned to quickly not limit his imagination, despite the Dursley’s stifling attempts to squash his intelligence, often trying to predict human behavior of the young college students whom were home on breaks. Harry often could get them to teach him a little something of what they were studying if he correctly piqued their curiosity. After all he had quite a wide variety of interests and he had long decided that any useful piece of knowledge would certainly help in the future.

Despite his fondness of Sherlock Holmes and the study of human nature around him, he found his true love in the dusty books featuring
myths of old, tales of fortune, adventure, and daring.

He grew fascinated by the tales of ancient explorers, their quest for treasure, and of destinations far and wide. He promised himself that one day he would visit all the places in his books, once he was old enough and far away from the Dursleys.

The old librarian, Mrs. Stockton, at first wary of him since the Dursley would tell anyone who would listen about their hellion nephew they had graciously taken in out of the goodness of their hearts, soon grew fond of him due to his quiet demeanor and respect for books. She often told him to never lose the unquenchable thirst he seemed to have for knowledge nor his curiosity.

Thing is, he didn’t, that is to say, lose his thirst for knowledge or his curiosity. Why then did the majority of the wizarding world think he, Harry Potter, Boy Who Lived, was an average, if perhaps slightly above average jock at this magic shitick, you ask? Well it was quite simple really. When he had first found out about magic and rejoined the wizarding world he had a firm plan in mind. Seriously, he did, really! The plan was, he was going to quietly find out as much information as possible and blend in, until he understood his place in this new world.

Simple, right?

However, before he knew it he was being rushed up and down Diagon Alley by Hagrid, a remarkably large fellow, who while kind and had rescued him from the Dursley’s tender loving care, seemed particularly anal about what books he could and could not buy and what shops he went into.

Looking back that should have been a clue for his young self but to be fair he was too caught up, in well, the magic, of the situation to think of anything else.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Finally, it was September 1st and the day he would leave for Hogwarts! Harry could hardly wait, he had diligently committed all of his books to memory and could not wait till he could start properly practicing magic.

Later after meeting the Weasley family on the muggle side of Charing Cross Station and learning how to cross the barrier of Platform 9 ¾, he wound up sharing a compartment on the Hogwarts Express with Ronald Weasley. A boy who he quickly deduced felt like he was constantly overshadowed by his large family and didn’t seem all that greatly academically inclined. None of that seemed to matter to him then though, because for the first time in his life he had a friend!

He would later go onto befriend Hermione Granger, whom was the exact opposite of Ron, in which she was an only child and a complete know it all. She also had a staggering i.e. unhealthy, amount of trust in anything she read in books and believed authority figures could do no wrong.

So, you see, it was just that his plan at some point had gotten completely away from him and before he knew it, a lifetime of carefully thought out actions to ensure his survival to adulthood had led him to somehow unwittingly create the facade of the quintessential Gryffindor; brave, brash, and more interested in quidditch than learning magic.

That isn’t to say he hadn’t been learning, not at all but instead of actually being able to try his best in classes now that he was free of Dudley’s perpetual mediocracy and the fists of Vernon Dursley, he once more had to hide his intelligence. Harry had taken to staying up many a night to sneak out of the dorms to take trips to the library. This feat made much simpler since receiving his father’s invisibility cloak the Christmas of his first year.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_______________________________________

Harry, had long come to the realization that life simply wasn’t fair and if his first two years in the wizarding world and at Hogwarts had taught him anything, it was that no one was going to save him, so he would bloody well have to do that himself. Typical, really.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 2: In Retrospect

Harry Potter, had just completed his second year of schooling at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry and to put it frankly was exhausted.

He collapsed on his rundown bed in his tiny bedroom, that the Dursley family had so “graciously” given him after his Hogwarts letter came, and released a sigh. He turned his head towards to the window, glancing out at the late sunny afternoon frowning. His beautiful snowy owl, Hedwig, gently hooted at him.

“I know, girl. How dare the weather be this nice when we are stuck in this hellhole? I don’t understand why Dumbledore is so insistent that we stay here! It’s not as if we are wanted.” Harry said grumpily.

Harry had had a truly awful year at Hogwarts, which was saying something since the previous year while amazing had been fraught with danger.

He had not only been thrust into the wizarding world spotlight with no preparation, for being the only survivor of a mad Dark Lord’s rampage that killed both his mother and father, which left him orphaned and ultimately led to being forced to grow up with his relatives.

Then, he had battled a mountain troll, survived what he would later learn was an attempt on his life via a jinxed broomstick, and was chased by a ghastly spirit in the aptly named Forbidden Forest.

Also, who seriously gave first year students detention in the Forbidden Forest, at night no less, when something or someone was causing harm to unicorns?

See if he helped smuggle any more dragons out of Hogwarts!

Honestly, how Hagrid thought hatching and keeping a baby dragon in his wooden hut was a good idea, he would never know. The man might have saved him from the Dursleys and introduced him to magic but even he could admit that Hagrid simply wasn’t the brightest Lumos spell around.

If that wasn’t enough, he had also faced down a massive three headed dog, which had been guarding a trap door. The trap door, which conveniently proceeded to led into an insane obstacle course. Once in the last room, Harry came to find poor stuttering Professor Quirrell in front of the Mirror of Erised. Harry soon found out that Quirrell was playing host to the one only Lord Voldemort, on the back of his skull under the garlic infested turban.

Harry had encountered the Mirror earlier in the school year and knew vaguely of its properties. So, when Harry was forced in front of the mirror by Quirrell to retrieve Nicolas Flamel’s fabled stone, only years of keeping his face blank stopped the surprise from showing when mirror him dropped the stone in his pocket, only for it appear in his actual pocket!

Turns out his lying wasn’t quite up to par and a short battle for the stone soon commenced between Harry and Quirrellmort, which would

once more end in defeat for Lord Voldemort and a trip to the hospital wing for himself.

It was still hard to believe that for the entirety of his first year that the previously pronounced dead Lord Voldemort, had ironically been possessing his freaking Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

Looking back, how did three first years manage to get past all of the protections on the stone, let alone find out exactly what was hidden on the third-floor corridor?

The third-floor corridor that Dumbledore said to be “out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.”

Painful death that was simply blocked by an ordinary door that could be unlocked with a simple, Alohomora.

What was his life?

So, he should have known this year wasn’t going to be any better after a wacky house-elf, named Dobby, had come to warn him of a “great danger at Hogwarts!” and to try to convince him not to attend.

Dobby, whom proceeded to cause entirely too much trouble, starting with illegally seizing his mail and then imitating his magical signature to drop pudding on one of the Dursley’s guests. What followed was one of the worst beatings he had in years due to his Uncle’s fury at his display of freakishness if front of fine upstanding folk. To make matters worse he then received owl with an official warning for using underage magic from the Ministry of Magic.

The only plus to Dobby’s little foray at Number 4 Privet Drive was causing Ron and the Twins, Fred and George, to come rescue him from his own personal hellscape in a flying Ford Angelia of all things, after being concerned from not hearing from him all summer.

If that was the end of it, he might just have let it go but since he was apparently the universes spit spoon it only seemed to go downhill from there.

It started after flying an enchanted car to school with Ron, that belonged to his father, after the platform barrier wouldn’t open for them.

Why he thought this was the most prudent case of action, instead of I don’t know, just sending Hedwig with a letter to the school about the situation, would forever be a mystery to him. Perhaps, Vernon had knocked him over the head harder than he had previously thought?

Later in the term, people assumed he was the Heir to Slytherin when the Chamber of Secrets was opened after he had been outed as a Parslemouth at that farce of a dueling club. Therefore, other than the few people in his own house, he was nearly completely ostracized by the rest of the school for being a “dark wizard.”  The teachers seemed to be no help in putting a stop to the rumors, either.

Then people and ghosts kept getting petrified and he was the only one who was hearing a murderous voice throughout the school.

Finally, after a terrifying adventure into the Forbidden Forest to, “follow the spiders,” which if anyone ever tells you to do…just don’t.

He and Ron nearly wound up obliviated by that fool Lockhart (making it 2 for 2 on DADA Professors out to get Harry Potter) only managing to actually obliviate himself. Harry wasn’t too sad about that, he still held a grudge from where the ponce had vanished the bones of his arm.

Turns out that Lockhart had been obliviating people and stealing their stories for his books and he was trying to do the same thing here by stealing the prestige of finding the entrance to the fabled Chamber of Secrets.

Also, Flopharts foolish wand waving with Ron’s broken wand managed to cause a cave in, which had separated Ron from Harry, forcing Harry to go on without him to rescue Ginny.

Oh, did he forget to mention the bloody humongous Basilisk, he fought with nary a prayer, a sword, the Sorting Hat, and a phoenix?

Seriously though, how did Hermione figure out it was the King of Serpents, traveling through the pipes, when all the teachers, could not?

Seriously, that girl was still saving their bacon even petrified.

He then once more battled and defeated Voldemort, this time a memory of him as a young boy named Tom Marvolo Riddle that came out of oddly enough a diary that had been possessing young Ginny Weasley all year.

He killed the basilisk after he shoved Gryffindor’s Sword, which the Sorting Hat had kindly provided him, through the roof its mouth straight into its brain, although not before a fang pierced him deeply through the arm.

Harry was lucky, he had a phoenix nearby to cry on the wound.

Yet, another scar to add to the collection.

Goodie.

Harry had thought at that point all was said and done for the year but after getting Ginny, crawling through a small opening that Ron was able to make in the blocked tunnel, and hauling Lockhart’s useless self out of the Chamber of Secrets, Harry had to give a full debrief to the Headmaster.

The Headmaster, who seemed oddly more interested in the ruined dairy than getting Harry proper medical attention. After all, it isn’t like he wasn’t just in a fight for his life with a ginormous snake the size of a quidditch pitch or anything.

Harry was seriously starting to wonder how Hogwarts, no matter how fond of it he was, could claim to be one of the safest places outside of Gringotts Wizarding Bank. When nothing but trouble and danger lurked through the many corridors of the ancient castle.

When he finally left the Headmaster’s office, he ran into Lucius Malfoy. The same Lucius Malfoy that was highly suspected to have put the cursed diary into play at the beginning of the year, slyly slipping the damnable thing in with Ginny’s school supplies, after a tussle with Mr. Weasley when doing back to school shopping.

So, Harry was completely guilt free when he tricked Mr. Malfoy into freeing Dobby. The Malfoy family being Dobby’s owners explained oh so much about the poor house elf’s mental health. Harry hoped he would do much better being free.

Malfoy had not taken kindly to losing his house elf, if the dangerous looking curse he sent at Harry was any indication.

Luckily enough for him, Dobby not only saved him but enacted some well-deserved justice when he sent the Malfoy Lord arse over tea-kettle down the hallway with just a snap of his spindly fingers.

One would think after all that Harry had done for the school in the past two years would have granted him some sympathy and trust with the Headmaster, when he later practically begged him not to send him back to Privet Drive this summer, much like he had the year before.

 Apparently, the Dursley’s home was according to the great Albus Dumbledore the safest place for him to be and surely it couldn’t be that bad after all, “they are your family, Harry!”

Dumbledore proceeded to offer him a lemon drop and shoo him out of his office.

Once more just reaffirming to Harry that adults could not be trusted to take care of you.

All Harry wanted to do was sleep for the next week but just as his eyes started to close and drift off into dreamland, he heard his Aunt Petunia’s shrill voice summoning him downstairs.

With a great, irritated sigh, he pushed himself up off the bed, while calling back, “Coming, Aunt Petunia.”