Chapter Text
Whole New Attitude
Chapter One. So, it begins.
The Train ride back to the Dursleys was uncomfortable with a heavy silence.
Hermione and Ron both give Harry space and time to grieve the loss of Sirius.
Harry felt nothing but anger and guilt, if he had just learned Occlumency with Snape then his beloved Godfather would still be alive, and Harry would still have the chance at the family he always wanted and not the continued return to his despicable relatives year after year.
Sirius had promised Harry would be with him this summer, they could be a real family, but then he had rushed to the Ministry thinking that Voldemort had Sirius Black and was torturing him.
It was all a trap, and in the end, Sirius died because Bellatrix’s spell had pushed him into the Veil.
The possibility of being free to live with Sirius as his Adopted Father figure was lost forever.
Harry would be left with the guilt and pain of losing one of the only people he counted as family for the rest of his life.
Grimly exiting the train and collecting his trunk with his friends he promised to write when he could and that he hoped they would keep him updated on what is going on in the Wizarding World when they could.
Spotting his uncle in the crowd of Kings Cross, Harry made his way over feeling a sense of dread and apprehension.
Upon arriving at number four Privet Drive, Harry’s uncle was in one of the foulest moods Harry had ever seen him in and was instantly ordered to put his trunk in the garden shed and put Hedwig up in the smallest room upstairs without letting her out of her cage.
Harry was then thoughtlessly tossed into the cupboard under the stairs where he was left till the next morning.
Harry did not know why he was back locked in his cupboard again, the space too small for his fifteen-going-on sixteen-year-old body, despite the fact he was quite small for his age, being the shortest in his year and at the same height as most of the third years at Hogwarts.
But he knew there was no use putting up a fight or protesting his uncle’s choice of returning to the cupboard as his room.
This summer was looking to become one of the worst summers yet.
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Vernon Dursley was in a wicked mood after having to pick his good-for-nothing nephew up from the train station yet again, the Freaks had cornered him and made it clear that they would be watching the house again this summer.
Vernon knew that it wasn’t all the time, because if they did then they would have stepped in when he taught his ungrateful nephew the lessons, he so loved to give in the form of beatings the previous summer when he was staying under his roof.
A threat from those people was just that, a threat.
Vernon didn’t believe the Freaks had it in them to follow through on it if the boy was mistreated as they called it.
Vernon was well within his right to dish out punishment as he saw fit, he didn’t believe he mistreated his nephew, he only made sure the little welp knew his place amongst the normal folk.
This year Vernon was not going to put up with any freaky business.
No, if his pathetic little nephew did any of that unnatural stuff again, the other Freaks could have the little shit back.
He would deal out one final lesson to the brat and then be done with the lot of them forever, it was about time they learned they cannot tell Vernon Dursley what to do.
He was a Normal hard-working British citizen, and those freaks didn’t belong in the world. It was about time he made the lessons sink in for good.
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Harry woke the next morning aching and stiff in his limbs as he did not have the room to starch out properly in the cramped dark space that was his childhood prison.
Harry could hear someone coming down the stairs and wondered if it might be what woke him up. From the sound of the light steps, it could only be his Aunt Petunia.
“Wake up and make us breakfast Boy” The shrill voice of his aunt had him grimacing in annoyance, he would much rather be left alone to suffer in his misery, but his relatives clearly had other ideas this summer.
“Yes, Aunt Petunia.” He dutifully replied.
Harry often wondered if just ignoring her orders would be so bad.
Petunia would only tell Vernon who would beat Harry for being ungrateful or disrespecting his betters, but Harry began to wonder if he didn’t really deserve it, after all, he was the reason Sirius was dead, he was the reason Cedric was killed in the graveyard in the last task, he was the reason Voldemort was able to come back to full power.
If Harry had died along with his parents, then none of it would have happened, at least Harry felt like it would be better to be dead.
In truth he was unsure, he did just want to live a normal life but so much had happened since he started at Hogwarts.
Harry was lost in thought about everything that had happened since he joined the wizarding world.
He was cooking a full English breakfast on autopilot as he had done so many times, starting from before he could properly reach the top of the stove or even see into the pans.
His uncle and cousin had woken up and joined his aunt at the kitchen table talking about Dudley’s last year at school and how well they thought he was doing.
Harry had given up in his childhood that he would ever be treated with love by his relatives but with the loss of his Godfather it hurt more than ever for uncle Vernon to tell Dudley how proud he was, it was just too much for Harry, too much pain, too much longing for a real family to love him.
Without realizing it in his depressed state Harry had overcooked the sausages and smoke began to fill the kitchen quite quickly.
In a rush, he turned off the stove and removed the pan, but it was too late, his uncle was already up and yelling that Harry was the most useless thankless idiot to ever darken their lives.
Grabbing Harry by the hair Vernon dragged Harry to the floor and began to stomp and kick his nephew to teach him a real lesson he won't ever forget, Petunia yelled at him to be quiet, to think of the neighbors.
Vernon was too enraged to care, he took the Freak in, he clothed the freak he feed it out of his own hard earn money and he was going to deal with it his way, the bloody neighbors be dammed.
Petunia eventually managed to calm her enraged husband down by suggesting a nice breakfast out at a café to celebrate their perfect sons’ achievements at school.
The only real achievement was that he was not expelled yet for aggressive behavior and not doing the work.
But Dudley could do no wrong in her eyes and he was to be celebrated, nonetheless.
Harry was lying unconscious on the kitchen floor, blood beginning to flow onto the tiles from the cuts his uncle's boot made on his skin, so before they left, she told her husband to move the unsightly beast into the cupboard, so they did not have to see it for the rest of the day.
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Hours later Harry woke back in his cramped little cupboard, hissing in pain as he tried to sit up unsuccessfully, everything hurt.
He was sure his ribs may well be broken or fractured in some way.
Breathing was difficult and tears began to cloud his vision as every breath became a searing hot fire of pain through his chest. Harry could only lay there and pray he passed out from the agony or died so he could just go and join his parents and Sirius finally in the afterlife.
It wasn’t like he genuinely wanted to leave his friend behind to grieve his death, but he was just so over the pain.
Sick and tired of always being in danger repeatedly, of being the one to have to face the bad guy and then be patted on the head, told well done, and sent to a new form of torture, sent to living Hell on Earth.
Why was he the one who had to sacrifice his happiness, what say did Dumbledor have in his home life anyway, he was sent back here continually even after he had begged practically on his knees to be anywhere else.
Why wasn’t he listened to, Dumbledore thought he was exaggerating and would not let him say anything else on the matter, why did no one care?
Dumbledore said he was important, had made out like Harry was a hero to the whole of magical society, and then just ignored him for the first ten years of his life.
Giving him a tiny glimmer of hope during his first few years at Hogwarts only to take it away again, playing with his feeling as if they mean nothing.
All Harry ever wanted was to be normal and have a happy loving family, yet Harry was denied at every turn.
It was all these thoughts that were swimming in his mind that made Harry realize that the wizarding world, that Dumbledore didn’t care about him as a person, they only ever saw the Boy- who- Lived.
Harry wasn’t anything but an icon to them, and hardly any of them knew the real him or cared about him enough to get to know him truly.
They all pretend to like him to get to know him and treat him like one of them.
Dumbledore with his fake grandfatherly persona and pretending he saw Harry as family or the Weasleys saying he was one of them but not taking Ron or the Twins seriously when they told Mrs. Weasley that the Muggles starved him and locked him up.
They were all pretending to care but deep down if they really cared they would never have let him return to the Dursleys, they would have comforted him after his loss, they would have known he would have been swallowed by the grief and guilt, consumed by nightmares of all the bad things that had happened to him.
Even Hermione tried to change him to suit her, if he tried to read something different, she would harass him to just do the class work, never anything he wanted to learn about.
Ron always wanted to goof off and play, never caring about his grades.
Hermione hounded them to do the schoolwork and fussed about grades and exams but if Harry tried to learn about anything not on the school curriculum, she would scold him like he was a toddler and not the teen he was with his own thoughts and feelings.
It was like she was purposely stopping him from learning so she would always remain needed, always be the smartest person he had around to help with the problems that just keep arising.
And pretty much all the adults only ever saw James Potter, he was not treated as an individual, even in the wizarding world he was a freak, he could never be normal to them, all because of something that happened when he was a baby, something that was not even of his doing.
Harry only truly wished he had the guts to leave it all behind, to move on and start anew, where no one knew who he was, and no one cared that he was the Boy-Who-Lived.
But the thought of leaving his friends to fight in a war that he inadvertently re-started made him pause and reprimand himself internally, Voldemort was back because of him, and Harry felt a sense of responsibility.
Harry knew he was just a kid though, there was only so much he could do, he had to learn.
Defense against the dark arts was one of his best subjects at school, but Hermione’s push to only learn school matters when she herself went ahead and read everything she could find was not something that he could let continue.
Harry would have to be tougher; he will have to push back when she tried to manipulate what he read and learned.
Harry thought it was time he went back and re-read all his previous year's schoolbooks, even getting more than just what was on the requirement list, when going shopping for his supplies.
Harry swore a vow to himself that no matter what he had to prepare for the up-and-coming fights.
He needed to learn to take care of himself and make sure he was protected and safe from those who wished him harm, Harry couldn’t count on anyone else to do it for him, not Dumbledore and not anyone in his Order.
His fifth year with Umbridge and the fiasco at the Department of Mysteries was a wake-up call.
No more letting Ron pull him away from schoolwork, no more allowing Hermione to dictate what he read.
Harry was his own person, and it was about time he showed it.
If only he had his truck to do his summer assignments and re-read all his books, just maybe he could get a head start on becoming prepared.
If he were going to go into his sixth year a whole new person, with a whole new attitude to his academics, then maybe he could survive to adulthood.
Just maybe he could survive Voldemort and Dumbledore.
With such heavy thoughts and plans, Harry drifted into a restless sleep hoping that when he woke again, the pain would have faded, and his magic might begin to heal the worst of the damage.
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The next two weeks continued the same.
Petunia only let Harry out to do any of the work that his relatives demanded of him and was beaten or belittled over anything and everything.
Harry was so bruised, every movement hurt, and he wasn’t sleeping very well due to the horrible nightmares he was suffering once more, nightmares about Cedric and Sirius.
He was so hungry, only being given enough to barely survive.
He was still thinking about his earlier thoughts about continuing to learn so he could fight.
Was it true what he wanted? Did Harry want to continue to fight or just learn enough to survive if any of the Dark forces came for him but remain neutral, never seek out any trouble and run as far away as he could?
Harry was always the one getting hurt after all, if he were going to fight in the future, he just knew it would continue.
Harry was sick of being at Privet Drive and had begun to contemplate just leaving again.
Could they really expect him to stay here and allow his family to continue to use him as a punching bag, as a slave? If he could get out and go to London, he could get to the Ministry now that they knew about Voldemort.
They would not be so against him as they were last year. Someone from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement could help him.
It would be just his luck that he would be stopped by an Order member though, and even with his body as evidence, they would only ever listen to Dumbledore and the old Headmaster had made it clear to Harry that he didn't care what his relatives did as long as he was safe from Voldemort and his Death Eaters.
Not considering that Voldemort could enter his relative's house at any time, so it was no longer important as the Wards Dumbledore said were on the house would no longer work anymore, his blood was used in the ritual to bring him back.
Harry wasn’t stupid enough not to realize that so surely the Headmaster was aware the Wards wouldn’t stop the madman from getting to him anymore.
Harry had made up his mind. Dumbledore, and his stupid Order of Sheep, could all screw themselves.
The first opportunity Harry got, he was going to leave and make his way to the Ministry, hopefully, he remembered the way from last summer when Arthur Weasley had taken him for his farce of a trial.
Harry was already feeling a sense of relief, having the forming of a plan in order.
Surely anyone would be better than the Dursleys were.
Heck, Harry would rather just face Voldemort repeatedly, than faces his uncle’s wrath. Voldemort was looking to kill him outright with maybe a bit of torture, but Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were dragging his death out, making it as painful as they humanly could.
Harry wasn’t senseless in thinking his uncle didn’t want him dead, so it came down to whether it was a long drawn-out one at the hands of his pathetic Muggle family or whether it was at the end of a Psycho’s wand.
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On the second week of the holidays, he had managed to send letters to his friends telling his uncle he needed to update the Order that he was fine, or they might storm the house to see him for themselves.
Harry asked Ron and Hermione how they were, needing to know they were ok and asking if they had gotten the prophet or knew what was happening in the Ministry or with the Order.
Had Voldemort made any more moves? But he had not gotten any response back, Harry thought for sure they would not ignore him, but they might not have gotten his letter.
Nothing was returned with Hedwig, though.
Any piece of information could have been better than nothing, he was being left to the Dursley's mercy while he grieved for Sirius.
Surely his friends knew him better than that to know he needed to know for his own peace of mind.
What if the Weasleys were attacked at their place? What if Death Eaters began to target Muggleborns and Hermione was in danger?
How would he have known? He needed to get a copy of the Prophet as soon as possible.
Harry did not even know if the Ministry remained the safest place to go, or if it has fallen to Voldemort, could he safely go there and not be hurt more? Not knowing was making him second-guess his plans.
But Harry knew he could not stay with his relatives one more night, as he feared it really would be his last.
With his body, one big bruise now and cuts from his uncle’s belt over various places on his body Harry was out of time and options.
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It was the fourth week of the summer holidays by the time Harry could finally break out of Private Drive.
Petunia has suggested a night out at the movies for the family and Vernon just loved to give his wife and son anything they wanted so agreed.
It was just that the dishes still needed to be washed from dinner and Vernon didn’t want to see them when he got home, so for the first time ever, Harry wasn’t being locked away while his relatives were out of the house.
With orders to not touch anything except the dishes to wash them, and to not make a mess before he was to get in his cupboard as soon as he finished his chores, the Dursleys left the house for the evening to see a movie together.
Thinking the freak was suitably scared and broken in by now to only do as told they felt they could enjoy the night out they had been wanting for quite a while now.
Harry waited all of five minutes to make sure they were gone before he was racing as carefully as he could in his excitement up the stairs to the smallest room in the house to collect his faithful familiar.
“Oh, Hedwig I’m so sorry you are always locked up here, but we are getting out I promise you, we will both be free.” His voice was raspy from only ever using it to yell out in pain.
With Hedwig safely in her travel cage, he made his way to back yard to get his trunk from the garden shed.
The shed door was locked with a rusted old padlock that Harry had a tough time breaking, but with the help of the shovel that had been left out, it was soon removed with a few mighty wacks that left Harry panting from the effort.
Harry wasn’t sure how he would get past the Order member on watch but the only thing he had was the Invisibility cloak that he pulled out to wear.
Hopefully, it wasn’t the famous Moody on guard tonight, otherwise, he could be stuck in the hell pit for the rest of summer, or the rest of his miserable existence if his uncle manages to kill him off first.
As quietly as he could, hidden under his cloak Harry snuck out the front and paused, he couldn’t see very well in the evening dimming light but even if there was someone there, they surely would be hidden with magic, something to add to his ever-growing mental list of things to learn about.
The only sound was summer bugs, grasshoppers, and birds chirping away as they went to nest for the night. Luckily, Hedwig seemed to know to remain silent.
Harry continued with his heart pounding in his chest with his anxiety and the exertion of moving so much while so very wounded, but there was nothing in his way, nothing to stop him as he continues to walk down the street and away from his own personal hell.
Not wanting to risk being seen Harry kept going, breathing a silent sigh in relief that he didn’t run into anyone from the Order. Perhaps they were not watching tonight after all.
Harry forced himself to continue even past the point he thought he could physically go.
Every step sent a burning fire of agony through his whole body, but he would not stop, he would not allow himself a moment of rest till he was far away and couldn’t be recognized by the people living in the area.
It felt like hours before Harry made it to a bus stop, which was well enough away that he felt safe enough to stop and rest.
After removing his Cloak while no one was around to see he packed it away in his trunk and removed the hidden money pouch he kept a small amount of money in, luckily, he still had some Muggle money on him to use.
Looking around it seemed he had walked all the way to a bus stop in Ashtead. The bus timetable said there was a bus every thirty minutes, Harry hoped he hasn’t just missed one and that he didn’t have long to wait.
What felt like only ten minutes later Harry saw the bus coming down the road and stood to get on.
“Excuse me, sir, what is the best way to get into London, Westminster?”
“London? This time of the evening your best be getting the train from Epsom Station.
It's one of me stops to” Thanking the tired-looking driver Harry quickly paid for his trip to the train station before maneuvering his trunk and Hedwig along to the nearest seat that would fit him.
There was only one other couple on the bus about midway along so Harry sat in the seat designated for prams and wheelchairs, hoping no one else would need it this time of night.
It wasn’t a long trip, but Harry could feel the stares he was getting from the couple behind him, and he was annoyed at the hushed whispered conversation that was probably about him.
You would think he was used to it by now with how the school reacted to him all the time, he looked a right mess at the moment though and the whispering and stares were for a totally different reason than what he was used to, with his dirty baggy clothes and bruised face and arms. It's not like Harry could have done anything about it anyway.
Looking like some beaten homeless kid, Harry could only hope that the look will help in his quest for aid along with the injuries, it should have the desired effect on the Wizards in the ministry.
Hopefully, they will see what their precious Boy-who-Lived really looked like outside of school.
The Minister for Magic wasn’t looking too good right now after the truth was revealed about Voldemort’s return.
Harry thought he could use it to his advantage in some way after all the hat wanted him in Slytherin, it's not like any of it was a lie either, he was just not hiding it anymore, Harry was out to expose what went on with his relatives.
The bus arrived at Epsom rather quickly with no other passengers to pick up, Harry made his way into the train station to find out what train he needed to get as close to the street he remembers the phone box on.
It looked like a train was due to depart in twenty minutes, so Harry purchased a ticket and then made his way to the correct platform to wait.
The whole trip was making Harry tied, he was still so sore and hungry, after the long walk and lugging his trunk along after him.
Harry really couldn’t wait to be able to cast magic when he needed it, his seventeenth birthday couldn’t come sooner.
The short rest on the platform was what Harry needed to catch his breath and ease his sore limbs.
But once again twenty minutes later he was on the Train to his last destination tonight.
Westminster via Waterloo should take him an hour, hopefully once there he wouldn’t have far to walk until he got to the phone box.
Thinking of all the things Harry wanted to start to learn about before he could freely use magic that is, had him thinking of his future and whether he still wanted to be an Auror.
He didn’t think he had passed his potion OWL to continue down that path, it required more thought and research as to what he might like to do.
Harry was sick of all the fighting so it’s not like it was a real loss to him, there was so much to do in the Wizarding world, he just had to find what he was enthusiastic about and go from there.
It was making Harry angry to think that he didn’t know many other options that were open to him, mostly due to Hermione stopping him from looking them up.
Ron just assumed he would be an Auror with him and Professor McGonagall just went along and encouraged the thoughts.
Harry really needed to buckle down and make the choice on what he wanted, and not let anyone sway him from his decision.
Thinking about how everyone always tried to dictate his life, had him thinking back on his school years once more.
Right back to the beginning, of how he and Ron had become friends in the first place, the Weasleys being the first real family to show any kindness to him after Hagrid.
All anyone ever said to him when he was just a little eleven-year-old boy, so new to the magical world that any tiny bit of information was absorbed like a sponge…
Hagrid only ever went on about what a great man Albus Dumbledore was and how every person who entered Slytherin was evil and not to be trusted.
Even the Weasleys shouting all through Kings Cross about muggles and the platform number as they had never been there before when they had done it so many times before they had probably lost count.
It was all beginning to feel like a setup to Harry, after all not all Slytherins were bad.
Yes, Voldemort and lots of his followers came from the House of Snakes and Malfoys group and the Quidditch team were right snobbish bullies most of the time, but the rest of the students always gave back just as much grief when they could.
Making Hogwarts almost a mini battleground, House against House.
Not all bad wizards were in Slytherin, Peter Pettigrew was a fine example, he was a Gryffindor, and Barty Crouch Jr was said to be the top-performing student of his year from Ravenclaw.
Both are Death eaters.
Even Hufflepuff wasn’t excluded with the likes of Zacharias Smith who was no better than Malfoy, both with their Pureblood superiority complex, who liked to bully younger years and taunt people for being beneath them.
No, every House at Hogwarts had its fair share of bullies and students capable of becoming Dark, it was all about intent and motivation, even Harry could have been motivated to go Dark like the school said he was in his second year.
If Harry went along with the Wizard's logic of a few bad Slytherins making them all bad, then he would think all Muggles were bad from the actions of his relatives alone.
Or that all wizards were bad based on the actions of most of the Wizarding world throughout his Hogwarts years.
the fact that almost every defense teacher had been out to get him was a thought at the forefront of his mind.
All the students who called him dark in his second year or the whole of Gryffindor turned on him at the start of the task thinking he entered his name and the continued bullying from the school about taking attention from Cedric.
The British Society of Wizards and Witches thought the Prophet was correct and that he was delusional and disturbed after being hit with the killing curse as a baby and the articles last year that were making him out to be an attention seeker.
They were all sheep, unable to think for themselves.
Harry could say he hated all Muggles and thought they should be wiped out from the years of abuse and neglect he had suffered from the adults around him when he was so young.
The primary teachers for believing the Dursleys lies about him being a delinquent and delusional troublemaker and not stopping Dudley and his gang from tormenting him and the other students.
All muggles in his life had failed him in some way, some more than others. But Harry knew they were not all bad, and some even were quite good and caring.
So, if he followed the Wizard's logic of a few making the whole bunch evil then Harry would hate and distrust everyone.
With that though Harry knew he needed to make more friends this year from other Houses.
Harry needed to hang out with more people from the DA in a more natural setting instead of just the learning environment he had set with them in his fifth year.
He knew a lot of them, but he was more acquaintances with them than real friends.
Neville was maybe the only other person who might know him better than his other dorm mates.
But Harry thought with a sense of guilt that he didn’t know Neville as well as he should.
It was probably a better friendship to work on, Neville had never turned on him as Ron had, He was gentle and loyal to anyone who he deemed worthy.
Harry just hoped it wasn’t too late to begin to deepen their friendship this year.
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Harry had arrived at his desired stop and, made his way along the streets to where he thought he remembered the entrance to the Ministry of Magic to be.
It was easy enough to spot the red telephone box in the dark and all Harry had to do was enter and dial the correct numbers M A G I C, the welcome voice startled him briefly as he had forgotten about it.
“Welcome to the Ministry of Magic, please state your name and business” At this Harry was unsure whether it was safe to use his real name, not that it would matter once he was down there as he would need to submit his want for inspection.
But he didn’t want to tip the Order off that he wasn’t at his relative's house and be forced back before he saw the Minister or an Auror.
Biting his lip Harry decided he didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot with the Ministry who he was going to for help.
Hoping there would be no Order member or Death Eaters to meet him in the Atrium Harry stated his name and intentions.
“Harry Potter, to see Amelia Bones, Auror Department,” he told the phone remembering her from last time, who he was meant to see for his disciplinary hearing that got turned into a trial.
“Thank you, Visitor please take the badge and attach it to your robes, Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, located at the front of the Atrium.”
The silver badge was dispensed, and he quickly pinned it to his tee while the phone box began to descend.
Going through security was much more involved this time around as the security wizard had to search his trunk as well as register his wand not to mention questioning him about his appearance and clear injuries.
Harry just told him he was in an accident and refused to answer any more of the man’s questions about his state.
Once that was done, he made his way to the lifts and began the trip to the second floor and to the Department of Magical Law.
When Harry stepped out of the lift, he was met by Madam Bones herself.
“My goodness Mr. Potter whatever happened to you” The stern-faced Witch with the monocle to her eye, came over to him and helped him with his Trunk out of the Lift.
“Please Madam Bones can we talk in your office?”
“Yes, Yes, this way.” She led Harry along the corridors without another word guiding him to her office with a worried look on her face.
“I must say Mr. Potter that when I got a memo just before my departure for the evening about you here to see me, I was incredibly surprised indeed. Only to see you in such a state, well I’m beside myself with shock.” Madam Bones left Harry's trunk by the door and gestured for him to take a seat in one of the chairs in front of her desk.
“I'll need to call a healer for you. Was it Death Eaters did they catch you?”
“No, please wait, let me explain first. You must promise not to bring Dumbledore into this” Madam Bones paused in writing a memo to who Harry guessed might be a healer within the Ministry.
And she regarded Harry with a look of contemplation.
“What does the headmaster have to do with this?” she was not expecting this at all, the young boy looked so bruised and beaten that she was shocked he was able to get to the Ministry, whatever could have happened, though she was not at all expecting to be asked not to bring Albus into it.
If she wasn’t mistaken the Headmaster of Hogwarts had named himself Harry's Magical Guardian when he was a small child as per what she assumed were the Potter's wishes.
Technically she should bring the old wizard in on this but the look of worry in the young boy’s eyes made her realize she needed to hear him out first.
“I will not notify Headmaster Dumbledore of your arrival here just yet, I will hear you out and then take any actions I deem necessary,”
“I guess that’s the best I could ask for thank you” Harry was relieved he would be heard for once.
Whether she believed what he has to say is another matter altogether.
Harry began to tell his tale, starting from when he was young, the first memory he has of Dursley's abuse, and continued through the years.
Giving brief descriptions of what he has suffered. Explaining in detail what Harry told Dumbledore, that he explained what his family did and begged not to go back but was sent back again, being told to stop exaggerating and that his family knew what was best.
All through Harry's tale, he watched as Madam Bones paled with every new piece of detail.
By the end Harry was in near tears himself having to relay his tragic childhood out and admit what he went through, admit how weak he was, admit that he had never known love while he grew up and all he had ever wanted was to be with a loving and supportive family.
Madam Bones got up when Harry was finished when he had broken down with the weight of all the misery and pain, coming back to the surface.
She rounded her desk and knelt in front of the broken teen placing her hand gently on his shoulder.
Harry flinched at the contact, but he didn’t shy away, he never received comfort like this and even his friends didn’t hug him often as they didn’t know how to deal with his flinching or shying away from their touch.
“Mr. Potter, are you telling me Albus Dumbledore, your Magical Guardian knows about this horrendous abuse, and he continues to send you back to a place that is unfit for any child to be?”
That made Harry pauses and look up at the witch with tear-filled eyes. He had never heard anyone call Dumbledore that before.
“My magical what?” he asked voice shaking with emotions he always tried to hide deep down.
Madam Bones inhaled sharply in surprise and suppressed anger.
“Mr. Potter...”
“Harry, please. Call me Harry”
“Harry then, are you not aware that Albus Dumbledore is your Magical Guardian and has been since your parents’ death?
He is the person meant to help raise you and ensure you are educated in our ways and prepare you for life in our world from the moment you were in his care, he was the person to make sure you were cared for and safe.” Madam Bones was angry Harry could tell, she wasn’t angry with him however and that made him relax a little, it seemed she was angry for him.
“I only first saw Dumbledore at the sorting in my first year. Hagrid had mentioned him to me when he took me shopping for my school supplies. I didn’t even know I was a wizard till I got my first Hogwarts letter, and even then, Hagrid had to deliver it and tell me all about the Wizarding World, after my relatives ran away trying to outrun the owls.” Harry was confused now, if Dumbledore is his Magical Guardian, then he sure could force him back to his relatives.
He was lucky he came here and not to the Minister right away.
Hopefully, Madam Bones had the power to get the old headmaster removed from his position as his Guardian, from what Harry could now understand he had seriously neglected his responsibilities.
“Harry, I know this is hard, but they are serious allegations that I need to investigate, I’m not saying I don’t believe you because I do, it's just that there is protocol in place for situations such as this.
But it is in your best interest to be placed immediately in my protective custody until a full investigation can take place, I assure you I will not let the Muggles or Dumbledore get away with this.” Amelia Bones made a promise to herself right then that this poor battered boy, so young and so broken, was never going to have to face such cruelty again.
At his hearing last year that was orchestrated by Minister Fudge, she had witnessed his strength then, but the boy before her now was, just a child pleading for help.
Harry would not be ignored. Amelia Bones promised.