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"My name is Hadrian Fleamont James Potter!"
Enunciating his own name like bullets he spat them at the gaping crowd, "And I did not put my name in the fucking goblet and NO, I will NOT come when called like a good little shitting DOG!”
He’d run, well, collected his things and walked out of the great hall and ignored all the yelling to come back and just…. left.
But that wasn't going to be good enough, he needed somewhere to hide but where could he go where no one would look for him?
Feet having a mind of their own he found himself in the last place he’d ever have willingly gone himself, the potions classroom, but the door was unlocked and people avoided the place like the actual plague so he went in, sat down in the far back right desk so as to have two walls to help protect him and just, sat.
Turned off his brain in the silence and rested his head on the desk.
*
Summer had been as horrible as the last one, spent alone, locked into a room, at least this time he’d shrunken his worldly goods and hidden them in his pocket so he had it all with him, and lied when he said he'd left his wand behind at school.
He’d even managed to convince the kitchen eves to give him loads of meals to hide away, so with care to stretch it out he hadn’t starved to death, or even lost too much weight although making himself eat in the oppressive walls-closing-in feeling of Dudley's second bedroom was hard.
At least he’d turned Hedwig loose before he even got on the train, so she was just fine too.
After all, who was he going to send her with a letter to? No one, that's who.
A harsh bark of laughter pulled from him, and he sat up and began to read a book he’d bought for himself when he got his school books, taking the chance when his guide left him alone for a moment, a seventh year ravenclaw he’d never even met before they turned up to take him to Diagon, but they'd caught sight of friends in the bookshop so Harry’d been unwatched.
Unwatched with a wand and knowing shrinking charms and money of his own so he’d bought so many books, even the used bargain boxes shoved under the benches and in dusty corners, he’d gotten the lot.
This one though so far was his favorite, written by a coven of witches in the seventeen hundreds, simply called The Goode Wife’s Book Of Household Management Spells but it was amazing!
About a thousand handwritten pages and he’d had to learn what felt like a brand new language just to decode them, english but from that long ago it seemed they had loads of extra e’s for some reason and wanted to use them all up, and spelling seemed to be wildly optional and don’t get him started on the way it looked, f and s the same to look at and the tiny looping beautiful fucking nightmare to read words that made his eyes want to cross just looking at it!
He laughed, a tiny sound in the absolute silence of the lab, and ignored hunger beginning to cramp his belly, instead focusing on For When Thy Childe Be Bound And In The Gripps, which he thought was constipation with cramps, but he’d not known he’d need a dictionary of seventeenth century language meanings, now he knew though he put it on his mental list for the first Hogsmeade visit and went back to his book.
*
Slamming into his classroom Crouch snarled, how stupid a mistake stupid stupid stupid but the fucking brat was called Harry Potter, had he stepped through the door, had he obeyed the command his name wouldn't have mattered!
How dare he, how dare he howdarehehowdarehe - words running on an endless loop he gagged at the swig of polyjuice potion and snarled, seems he’d have to use a different way to get the brat to the dark lord!
*
Someone was in his classroom.
His personal wards alerted Severus from where he'd taken refuge from the insanity that was Dumbledore welcoming something as stupid as this tournament to Hogwarts, lounging in his sitting room behind triple locked and sealed doors so no one could bother him, giving him a bit of peace in a castle that had seemingly gone mad.
When he got the ping Severus simply closed his eyes and opened mentally spelled ones in his classroom space and saw….
What on earth was the nightmare child doing in his rooms?
Reading, it looked like.
Anger began to burn like familiar acid and Severus was about to sweep down to destroy him with a tiny sound from the child had him pausing.
A broken sound, part laugh, part sob, and a hand was swept across the pages of a book, shoulders hunched even more, as knees came up, arms wrapping around them as in almost total silence a child began to cry.
Trying to get a look at whatever was in the book, when he finally did Severus didn't know why a spell to make a child with fever feel better would create that reaction, so perhaps it was from his actions earlier, or in regards to what the next weeks and months might bring.
After all, the child had no visible friends, and plenty of enemies.
Clearly if someone who didn't even know his fucking name put it in the goblet!
*
He’d been spat on, punched, and hexed on the way to the tower.
Expected really.
Closing the curtains behind him he waited for silence before getting back up and slipping down to the common room, after of course spelling the curtains to resist anyone else opening them.
Once safely down he lifted the uncomfortable couch no one willingly used and slid under it, because it was better to sleep cold on a stone floor than die in bed, and the way the Weasley’s were still going on about their sister’s death being his fault, and now everyone in the castle blaming HIM for his name being chosen by the fucking goblet….
He’d sleep long enough for curfew to be over in the morning and head down to the great hall where the public nature of the space should keep him safe, well, safe-ish anyway.
Not enough sleep was better than an eternity dead.
***
Potter looked like death.
Watching them come into class he barked “Potter, far right station, you’re working alone today!"
That station had two walls bracketing it, could only be approached from the greater classroom, so the chances of foreign objects being thrown into their cauldron was low.
“If I hear ONE SINGLE BLOODY WORD ABOUT THAT DAMNED GOBLET I’ll feed all of you to my demon, do not test me!”
As the rumor of him having a chained demon in his private labs was so widespread and unshakable, why not use it for some peace in class, and he kept an eye on bloody Potter who peered at the board, peered at his notes, peered at his ingredients - did the child’s glasses not bloody work? - and then produced a perfect brew.
Unlike most of the class, who took any chance his back was turned to sabotage others.
Waving them all out he snarled “Potter, remain behind!”
Potter’s potion should have gotten extra points, yet Severus’d simply thrown the bottle into the trash and moved on, so now he said, “Retrieve your potion.”
In clear bafflement the child did so, and Severus did the proper tests as he said, “Life is unfair, yours more than most.” Correcting the grade to a high pass Severus asked, “Why did I just do this?”
It was a test of reasoning abilities yet he was shocked to hear the savagely practical answer, “Because if you treat me fairly all the houses will come down on me like a ton of bricks, so I’d have to deal with that as well as the Weasley’s insisting I let their sister die and now all the hell of this tournament.”
“Sir.”
“Indeed, well done.”
Puzzled for a moment as to what to do with the child he asked, “The household book I sometimes see you with, may I look at it.”
If it was possible for the child to look even more like a dog expecting to be beaten they now managed it as he handed over the book, not even asking if they’d get it back, and Severus waved them back to a seat, called a kitchen elf and said,” Feed the boy.” And opened it.
Easily reading the archaic language Severus intended to only read for a few minutes but when he finally lifted dazed eyes several hours later he saw the boy was sound asleep, head on the desk, homework finished in a neat stack on the floor beside him.
Did the child know the treasure he’d found in an ancient tome like this?
The power?
Deciding the child could just stay where they were in his domain he called a house elf and said, “Give the brat a pallet in my lab, make sure food and water are in sight for them when they awaken, as well as a clean uniform.”
Settling in with the shockingly frightening book of household tips and tricks, each of which he’d read so far would adapt to the battle ground with savage efficiency, Severus read the night away before reluctantly handing it back to the child, saying, “Keep this safe, and hidden.”
*
Snape was acting weird, but with how concerned he seemed to be that someone would take his book, and Harry was worried about that too, he risked, “Will you keep it safe for me, please, sir?”
“You would trust me with this?”
“Oh yes sir, you just hate me, not like the others do, you at least seem to have a reason for the way you feel and if you took my book then you'd at least use it but they’d take it for no good reason, probably even destroy it as I watched just to hurt me.
A breathy sound that might might be a laugh if you studied it hard enough, "You’d at least take it for yourself and keep it safe, not make me give it up and say it's for my own good or its not allowed or anything like that.”
“Well then, I will indeed keep it, and you may remain after every class and read it then, I will even provide a house elf meal each time.”
“Wow, is it really that special?”
“The book? Indeed it is. I had heard of it of course but as every copy of it was thought to have been hunted down and destroyed, I am beyond amazed and thrilled to be able to read this one, and as soon as I teach you the proper spells you will be making many copies of it which we will then decide how best to make use of, because as it’s owner, only you will be able to make more."
"Other than my writing out each spell one by one that is. It's the only other way to make sure this bit of magical heritage is preserved and protected.”
Handing it over Harry hurried to transfiguration, which was sure to be just as stupidly confusing as usual, but as his morning had started so much better than normal, maybe the rest of the day might be okay.
*
Sweeping into the hospital wing, Severus paused to watch Popsy berate James’ whelp for getting injured until he broke in with, “How do you think he managed to hex himself in that manner? Is he some kind of accidental backwards mage to have done it, do you think?”
The strangest thing he’d ever seen happened right then when the brats eyes, almost swollen shut…. Brightened at seeing him.
“I declare Severus he’s in here more than any other students I - ” Breaking in again without hesitation he said, “As he has more enemies than any house combined, I fail to see your point in berating him for an attack that happened to him rather than hunt down the ones who did it, and I repeat the words so you might get the point, TO HIM!”
She bustled off in a hissy fit and Severus handed over a bottle, “Drink this, and then come with me.”
*
It was a relief to see again, and for the burning to be so much less, but why he was sitting in the quiet of the dungeons reading his household book was a mystery until he read the spell again that Professor Snape had tapped as he handed over the tome.
Harry didn't know if it was a charm, spell, potion, hex.... the book seemed to mix them all up, and runes and arithmancy and what he guessed was hedge witching as well but this one….
“Protect Thy Childe From Spite?”
“Indeed, memorize that one and then we shall practice it, because if you don’t do something Potter I am firmly convinced you will be murdered in your bed before winter break.”
Hardly hearing himself say, “I don’t sleep in my bed anymore.” Harry got to work, because this felt right and might actually work.
*
If the child didn't sleep in his bed, no wonder he looked like shit all the time!
And where was he sleeping?
*
The invisible spite turning away spell worked, even though he got in trouble for having used it.
Because the spell cast against him had rebounded and injured the one trying to hurt him which wasn't allowed for some reason.
But, as they couldn't stop him using it, not even by the headmaster looking all sad and talking about forgiveness and being understanding because how on earth was that gonna work? And the spell really only gave him a layer of protection that anyone who tried couldn't banish or stop without hurting themselves, so Harry gave a mental fuck all of you and kept it activated at all times!
Let them be disappointed at him, it hurt a hell of a lot less than hexes did.
*
Hogsmeade weekend, where yet again he’d be staying in the castle as everyone would expect and mock him for, except this year he’d managed to sneak his permission slip into a stack of Dudley’s school shit, and accio’d it away once signed, the spell so low powered, he’d only been behind the wall, less than four feet in total, he’d barely even touched his wand to do the spell and his gamble paid off, no one showed up yelling about it.
Just like no one had ever showed up to his accidental magic, so if he kept it low, didn’t use his wand or only a tiny bit, then he could do magic at home.
Because he’d kept his wand and his stuff last summer, even though he wasn't allowed outside of his room the entire time, except three times a day for a bathroom break or when he was escorted to get his supplies.
He’d done the same trick in reverse once back at Hogwarts, slid it into the stack of permission slips he’d seen on Professor McGonagall's desk and now he was walking out with the rest, only to be grabbed and hauled forcibly back into the castle, him doing what he always did in that situation, going dead silent and small.
His only defense really, but when she asked him why he was trying to sneak out he found enough voice to say, “My slip got signed this year, I handed it in, put it on your desk, may I go now?”
Of course she had to check, not just believe him, and then had the gall to ask if it was real, and do a forgery detection spell and then apologize in the fakest way possible which made him miss the carriages and have to walk but…
In Hogsmeade at last, even with the walk to get there, he smiled in relief because he’d done it!
Better yet, he had money left over, because this time he’d taken everything from his vault, all of the cash in it, not even caring that he might have a problem next year, so now he moved carefully through the crowds to the cloaks and bags shop, looking for something he knew he needed, a bag he could adapt to being bottomless.
It took good stout canvas to hold the charms properly, so he used the excuse most first years did when getting a bag. “I need to practice on it and please, do you have one with more than two pockets?”
Of course it was ten times more money than in London but he finally chose a nondescript brown bag and moved on with it shrunken in his pocket.
Book shop next, and he had to fight off fucking Granger who tried to make him leave the books alone, that he’d just waste them or something stupid like that, but as he had gold, the shop keeper made her leave and not him, and even let him go out the back way after he paid because she was hovering now with the twins.
Escaping them all he ducked into the sweet shop to buy enough to perhaps fund his own store but as he'd never been allowed to have hardly any sweeties in his entire life, he gave himself a pass on buying too much with a mental promise to not eat them all too fast, and then finally the post office, sending a letter he’d written in advance, because much as he loved Hedwig, his post was clearly not getting through.
*
Easing into the closet he’d found, in the tower yet not any place anyone would look for him, scoffing about never getting out of cupboards, Harry took out his first book and gave himself a few hours break from all the excitement, he’d been chased most of the way back to the castle, finally nipping in behind Hagrid who’d tried to get him to come to tea but he’d yelled HOMEWORK and kept running.
The book he’d chosen to start with was Travel Within The Magical World and it really did tell him about every option available, and how to use them, which was step one, well, step two anyway. And he'd started his sweets eating with a Fizzing Lemon Lolly, which was sour enough to bring tears to his eyes and a puckered smile to his lips.
After his break he began working on his bag, layering in the charms it needed because it had to be perfect before he could take any more steps.
*
Having bought an extra ten boxes of luxury boiled sweets selection hampers Harry slid into the kitchens between classes the next day and said, “Please, may I trade these with you for food for me? I have a bag to put it in but it isn't safe for me to eat with anyone now, please help me?”
Sweets successfully turned to months worth of packaged preserved meals, Harry ticked off one more thing from his list.
Because with him at all times now went a brown canvas rucksack, spelled with seven bottomless pocket spaces, one of which had not just the school books he’d had to buy, but every book he’d managed to get his hands on despite all the obstruction he faced, and any he’d found in Hogsmeade since then that might be useful for later.
He was getting loads of practice at magically summoning things to him too, because other than segregating it by pocket, he had no other way to get it back!
*
The child looked shifty, like a ferret in a hen house.
“Potter, remain behind!”
A normal bark, as was the protected seat he’d put them in for all his classes now, and when all the students were gone Severus slammed privacy down over his space with a clang and said, “Tell me.”
“I can't, I’m really sorry sir, but I really can’t.”
It hurt, stupidly, and he was about to force the issue regardless of what trust they clearly did not have between them now when Potter said, “I have a plan, but if you help me you’ll get in trouble, so I have to do it alone.”
Feeling totally wrongfooted at a child trying to protect him he said, “I assure you I can handle trouble, Potter.”
“I know you can, but when I do it everyone will be mad, and I don't want you to have to face them all on my behalf sir, I’m not worth it.”
The child believed that fact utterly, it shone from his eyes and Severus didn't scream in rage the way he wanted to, or wither in guilt at having helped instill that lie into the malleable mind of a child, instead he asked, “What then can I help with?”
“Oh, ummm, nothing yet but I’ll tell you when I know, okay?”
“Indeed, yet, do you know what I did in the past war, Potter?”
“No sir?”
“I was a double agent, so keep that in mind when assigning me a role in your problem play.”
Unexpectedly the child grinned and said, “Yes sir!” before getting back to his book.
*
Spinning as he pulled power to him, Harry swept his hand in a big gesture, wordlessly intoning the spell and everyone in the hall went down like an invisible rug had been swept from beneath their feet, which in a way it had, and then ran like hell.
Defense class was useless, what good were illegal spells and complicated big things when real fighting was fast and dirty?
His household spells though adapted to fighting so easily, a simple wandless focus of will had them flowing into driving them back! Thus keeping him uninjured any time people attacked him and his shield kept him alive when all the sneak attacks hit him in the back only to rebound and hit the one who'd done it, and Hogsmeade weekend rolled around again with him still having all his limbs attached.
*
Whispering a greeting to the thestral pulling the last carriage Harry didn't get in, instead he ran, a steady lope to get ahead of them all. Letting them reach the town before him just let them set up ambushes.
Reaching the first houses he kept going, until he got to the far end of town and put his wand up, summoning the Knight bus.
Panting as he lept on he said, “Diagon alley please, and yes,” holding up an actual forgery this time he said, “I have permission for the day.”
Slumping into a chair he quickly learned that this was a terrible and stupid way to travel!
But it was fast, and less than a half hour later he was staggering off and heading for Gringotts.
*
Seeing the child of Potter approaching her desk Ratchet glared, because having ignored all attempts to communicate with them through the years they had proved to be as disrespectful as it was possible to be as a human, and that was saying a lot.
Yet when they got to her desk they did something strange, they bowed.
Properly, hands out to the side, open, palms up, head angled and one eye still on her, even though the desk was in the way, and said, “Defeat to your tribes enemies.”
Rising slowly he then gripped and shook his own clasped hands as he said, “Help for help, I know not what I can do for you but my need is great, and pressing.”
“What is your need?”
“An accounting of what I own, and what is due to me at the age I presently am. A tithe to you of all I possess if that is what you need from me to work on my behalf, yet I have no key, it was taken and is still withheld from me.”
“Come, child of Potter.”
Leading them to a ritual room she said, “Strip and stand within, once there shed blood for me, one drop for every year you have.”
*
Standing in the cold, skin prickling into goosebumps, gratitude for the book on Dverger customs he’d bought on impulse burning through him, Harry pricked his palm and let fourteen drops fall and -
He was suddenly part of everything, slivers of spinning dancing motes and swirling light and it was the most wonderful feeling, like flying but without any fear of falling or being knocked off his broom.
He’d not flown since second year, yet another thing people hated him for, but this was proper magic.
Blinking back to awareness he saw the floor was a flaring mosaic-like mandala pattern of some kind that swirled and condensed into pages yet to one side of him was a black char mark.
“This way Child of Potter, we see a way for your debt for this accounting to be paid, and to be accomplished while the actual accounting is placed into a language you will understand.
Easily following he drank what was given and lay down, still naked, on a black floor inset with electric silver marks and sighed, closing his eyes with relief as the room began to spin.
*
The child simply did as told, letting them do whatever they willed to it, yet care must be taken to not injure it, its very compliance to their directions bound their honor to its condition not being damaged anymore than it already was.
Summoning power they shielded the child, the circle, the space around the circle, and not just the room but carefully all the rooms around were shielded as well and began the sacrifice, pulling the dark shard free of the near death body.
Near death because the child of Potter was hovering always on the edge of being eaten by evil, only a mother's blood sacrifice had wrapped the evil in shields powerful enough to keep it silent and sleeping.
Wishing to have been able to meet any mother so skilled and dedicated, it was a shame indeed she was dead and gone, only the lingering love remained.
The love woke fully though once the shard was disturbed and it kept the dark from turning back on the child as it fought and screamed and was first contained, and then destroyed.
Their lore masters had long failed to understand how the one called Riddle had bound itself to life and now they knew.
And knowing, they would destroy every piece and part of them, defiler of the bank, already they knew where another shard lay and suspected at least one other.
Sin upon offense upon sin, and there would be an accounting.
Rousing the child they were owed a debt, for the power raised by the sacrifice of the shard bolstered an entire quadrant of the edifice that only looked like a large white building, so while Potter owed the bank for the accounting, the bank owed them for the power and the knowledge and with a bark of humor, the authorization for retrieval if a certain item was given.
*
Rousing slowly Harry tried to ask, “Wa’ time ish it?”
“Time to wake now child of Potter, drink, your head will clear.”
“Good, now, we have tallied you accounts, filled a carry bag with funds as cash cannot be traced which we suspect will be important to you and now we have a gift, in thanks for what your coming to us has wrought.”
Looking at the crystal on a fine silver chain Harry asked, voice more clear with each word, "I helped you?”
“Indeed, now, time is short, what you are holding is called a Forebearer's Overlay Crystal, no, don’t activate it here, there is no need.”
“When you are alone you may activate it by holding firmly, it will draw off enough blood to read through your blood into your great to the thrice level of your grandparents blood and let you choose one of the possible options compiled from them, sixteen of which are open to your use, to give you not a glamor but a true overlay of their blood upon your body.”
Seeing the confusion she said simply, “Much as Polyjuice does, yet without any of that potion's downsides, the effect remains stable and true until you turn it off and revert to this, your first form.”
“Indeed, should you prefer one of the forms the crystal makes available to you, simply remain thus and your life can be spent as that person, we at the bank are perfectly able to make that a legal form for you with none the wiser, but only when you reach a legal age to make permanent decisions of that nature.”
“Now, tuck the invoice of your worldly goods away into your bag, and come, we return you to your day out from school.”
Not giving the child a moment to protest, they simply took them to the outskirts of Hogsmeade and departed.
*
The thestral found him where he'd been weaving unsteadily on his feet and simply carried him, teeth gripped firmly to the trousers of his pants as if he was some kind of puppy being carried by its mother, it was the only way Harry made it back uninjured to the school at all though, somehow she covered Harry with the invisibility that kept most people from seeing them at all, and he crammed himself into an actual cupboard near the front gates to sleep off what the bank had done to him.
Waking uncounted hours later he slid through silent dark corridors down and down and down to the dungeon classroom, the one place he knew no one would look for him.
Other than the person who barked “Potter!” as the lights snapped on and Harry sagged to his knees, and then out for the count.
*
Severus had no idea what had happened to the child, nothing explained this level of draining to their magic, or the deep ebb of their physical energies but he bound the gaping wound where a scar had been, pulling its edges together with a suture spell and covered it with a healing salve and then, not willing to get near the crotchety witch in the infirmary he simply levitated the brat and put him to bed on the couch in his potions resting space.
It was more library than anything else, and the couch was comfortable enough.
Concerned and hating himself for it, Severus put a simple monitor charm on the perplexing problem that was Potter and pondered.
Part of being an adult he’d long known, and often hated, was admitting when one was wrong.
He’d hated this child because of his father, and fucking Albus Dumbledore using him as a weapon to bind Severus to the mans service, a moment's agony of the spirit that should have been treated with care and reassurance and comfort was instead ruthlessly exploited.
Well, looking back with a much calmer eye, this child had no part in that, and as such his own treatment of them rivaled Albus’s own of the treatment he’d bludgeoned Severus with all those years ago, and continued even to this day.
Vowing to do better, at least where Potter was concerned, Severus sighed and took himself to bed.
*
His headache was gone.
Seeing as he’d had it all his life it was a wonder indeed for it to be gone.
His scar felt -
Actually, he couldn't feel it at all, a thin bandage met his fingers and no pain at all as he pressed gingerly upon it.
Weird, and nice, he sat up and practically fell upon the plate of sandwiches after a panicked glance for his bag, which was on his feet on the couch.
Trying to remember to chew Harry pulled out the stack of things the bank reckoned he owned and began to read.
*
Looking up at the sound of fabric in the air, the only warning someone was there, Harry said without even looking up, “Did you know I have houses?”
Yes.”
“Did you know I have vaults?”
“Yes?”
“Did you know I own a bloody castle and town houses and cottages and a fucking petting zoo?”
“No, I didn't know about the petting zoo, fucking or otherwise.”
Shuddering with rage at how he’d been raised and treated his entire life Harry hissed, “When exactly was someone going to tell me this?”
“No idea Potter, rest assured it was no task of mine to inform you as to your wealth.”
“I even own all of the Black properties and holdings and vaults, but I wear rags.”
“Yes, I noticed.”
Rage bleeding away into hopelessness, Harry said, “I even own the house I grew up in, hell, I own the fucking cupboard they locked me into for days on end, I own it all.”
“Good to know, now, what happened yesterday that has you sleeping on my couch?”
“Oh, ummm, I went to Gringotts, took the Knight Bus, talked to the Dverger, they're in my Goode’s book, just a mention so I got a better book on how to act and be polite? Then they did something with my blood, and then something to my scar, and they gave me this and said it was for disguising myself as my great grandparents, no, ummm, blood, OH, as their blood kid rather than me.
Holding the crystal as it spun and glittered, Harry smiled tiredly and said, “It’s pretty.”
*
Seeing a treasure of incalculable worth in the hand of a careless child Severus almost fell into a chair as he asked, “What will you do with it?”
“Huh? Oh, use it to hide who I am when I - ”
Breaking in Severus said, “Ah, of course, good idea, do not tell me, I neither need nor want to know - ”
“Run away!”
The two words were flung at him and Severus sighed, “What part of don't tell me was difficult to understand?”
And now the child was sulking but, well, he had vowed to do better. “Alright, I am not helping, do you understand? This is me not helping in any way shape or form yet the trace is in your wand, do you have a plan for dealing with that?”
“Trace?”
“Oh hells Potter, right, the trace is - ”
*
For someone not helping, Professor Snape was suddenly the most useful person he’d ever met.
Up to and including letting Harry kip on his couch any time he needed.
He also insisted Harry experiment with his crystal, keeping him calm not only when it filled with blood and burned light throughout his body like he'd turned into some kind of star or something but when the first ancestor he pulled on turned him into a freaking girl!
“Oh, very pretty Potter, suits you sir.”
The droll sarcasm was the only thing that kept Harry sane as he looked down at breasts, and he didn't dare reach between his legs because holy fuck!
“Remain calm, reach for your body, it will come to you.”
It did, but Harry suspected it might not have without the help, and the calm voice telling him what to do so he said a very shaky “Thank you professor.”
“Don't mention it to anyone at all, seriously, don't mention it! And now, again, you should be able to work through all sixteen possibilities, I am recording them with this,” holding up a camera looking thing, “and you will be able to make back stories on them and names as well.”
“You are related to so much of the wizarding world that it will be easy for you to hide like this.”
*
He already had a plan to get out of Privet drive and months in which to get ready, so while the castle was filled with the stupid tournament and everyone was so distracted, Harry hid away in odd corners of the castle and worked on his spells of the past and adapting them to battle magic, as well as his disguises where he got used to being tall, short, stout, thin, girl, boy, a very odd yet beautiful non binary sort of person, and every Hogsmeade weekend he planned to head for Diagon while using one of his disguises, but now on the first weekend free of the castle he was using the advice his very reluctant and grumpily helpful professor had given him.
“Every wizard has more than one wand Potter, many carry as many as ten at a single time, although four or five is more normal.”
“Do NOT go back to Ollivander's, go to Knockturn alley and give your money to Spriggans Custom Wands to get two custom made wands and a wand holster, dueling version only.”
“Then go to Tattling lane and find Prime and Dancers - Wands For All and get two more, and a hip holster, make sure each of your holsters holds five wands at least because you will be buying more over time, and make sure they both have thought activated through-clothing retrieval and now get out! I am NOT HELPING YOU!!!”
*
Custom wands were vastly different than Ollivanders, and now he had a rose with kelpy hair core, an elm and kneezle claws, a chestnut and Augurey crest feather, and an elder and Thestral tail hair wand, not a single thing related to his first wand at all!
Looking at them now he had water, air, fire and earth, and if he looked a different way he had ocean, land, and air with the elder wand standing in maybe for magic with its core and he still had his first wand which felt totally fine with the new ones which was strange but relieving indeed.
Anyway, he bounced into the sparring room in the under under dungeons and began practicing with each one in turn, enjoying it hugely!
*
He never made it to summer.
An impulse purchase of linked diaries holding pride of place in the stationary shop's window in Hogsmeade made him late to head back to the castle, and he'd decided to just have a butterbeer and wait until all the rest were already heading back before following them was where he overheard the Weasley’s - sitting in the booth right behind him - planning to get him for not saving their sister, how they could use their friends father's contacts to let three death eaters know exactly where he was so they’d do it for them!
Hating HIM, planning to get him killed, not the adults who should have kept her safe but him who only even bloody learned about her by accident!
And he'd tried, it still woke him from nightmares sometimes, how hard he’d tried.
How bad it hurt to have failed but it wasn't his fault!
The basilisk he’d managed to kill, the diary he’d shoved into hiding under a pile of rubble but only after the huge snake had killed the girl, he had managed to lift and bring her with him for a bit, far enough no one would spot the actual chamber.
After that it all blurred into nightmares really and he’d told no one at all anything about how he’d done it or what actually happened other than finding her dead in the tunnels yet somehow it was all his fault.
Slipping out the back of the pub Harry began walking, not to the castle but to the edge of town, it was late, he’d be spotted missing at dinner maybe, but his erratic eating habits might let him be gone for a few days but they'd know soon enough.
Raising his wand to summon his ride he paid and sat down and let the bus take him to the docks.
Not the magical docks because he didn't know what they were called and didn’t dare ask but he was sure they were there, on the mouth of the river, because as one of his books had said, “Imagine shipping eggs via port key!”
Stepping down as the bus departed with a bang he called Hedwig to him, smiling as she glided down in only an instant, "Good girl, you are so smart."
Giving her one of the diaries in which he’d already written Dear Professor Snape, I am running now, please, I know you are not helping me, and nore should you because I am fully able to do this alone, but it is nice to have at least one person on the planet who cares enough to talk to me, please, if you like we can correspond through these books, I have its linked twin so if you like, just write in yours and it shows up in mine.
If not, just let me know and I’ll throw my one away.
No reply for Hedwig, stay safe with that stupid game going on, quidditch is better!
Regards
Harry Potter
Setting off to the feel of magic he easily found a bustling magical port, and then just asked for passage to France on the first vessel that looked to have cabins, paid, and went on board.
Wearing the very pretty Matilda Prewitt it was easy, a simple story of meeting her betrothed who no one in the family liked, how romantic it all was and bla bla bla here have lots of gold and it was a done deal.
*
The stupid child!
Brash, rash, foolish, foolish foolish indeed gryffindor to his bones!
....but….
Reading the words that ached of loneliness, knowing a fourteen year old child was running away to save his life from people who should have protected it and counted it a gift and honor to do so….
He’d cornered Albus that very day, hoping to at least be able to retrieve Potter and convince him to try again and he’d demanded to know why the child wasn't being cared for or helped or protected and the stupidity of it all almost had him murdering the man out of hand.
“Let me get this straight, you put the child where no one would love him and kept him from having friends or any loving care at all once back in the wizarding world so he’d commit suicide at your command, simply to kill the piece of dark lord soul in his scar and save us all?”
“Yes Severus, it pains me to have done it but - ”
Breaking in with a donkey's bray of laughter Severus guffawed in a reaction of mingled rage, astonishment, and contempt at how stupid anyone could be.
“Albus, holy fuck Albus!” he said still laughing, “Giving him no ties didn’t make it easy for him to die, it simply gave him no reason to care!”
“The only reason one willingly dies for others is love, yet you robbed him of love, starved him of love! Why would anyone, anyone at all, never mind an abused child, be willing to die for you?”
Storming out and slamming the door hard enough to hear the tinkling of shattered fragile instruments behind him he’d stormed down to his private rooms and had tea in an effort to calm the fuck down!
Looking at the letter now Severus slowly picked up a pen and wrote….
Potter,
It will cost me very little effort to write to you, and perhaps it will enliven my days to hear about your travels.
Again, I am not helping you, simply curious as to where you are and what you are doing, so keep me informed regularly, perhaps once or even twice per day for the first while.
I am sending my owl to you with a port key bracelet, keyed to my house in Spinner's End, an international version of course.
Use it if you get into difficulties, the wards are now keyed to allow you in, and I will be alerted and come to you if you do use it.
Now, explain what sent you hare-ing off, because I had guessed the plan was to run away this coming summer.
Severus snape
*
Looking at the words, owl on his shoulder, water ink black in the dark as his ship crossed the channel, Harry smiled in excitement. Having the port key on his wrist took his flight from frightening to an adventure, and he gave the owl a treat, blew a kiss at Hedwig so she’d not be jealous and began to write his reply, because while Professor Snape SAID he wasn't helping, it really did feel like help!
Tongue sticking a bit out of the side of his mouth as he worked to make the letters right when the ship tossed a bit, Harry grinned, cause this was epic!
*
Eleven in the evening of the second day Harry Potter was missing, even if no one had even fucking noticed yet, he’d already let Severus know all about his day and that he’d gotten a hotel room for the night, yet expecting nothing more didn't stop the journal from giving a buzzz that signaled a message coming in, and Severus snapped it open to see a scrawl forming across the page, unreadable with speed of writing and a clearly shaking hand so, with a sigh he took himself to the castle gate and activated his own portkey, linked directly to the child's one and stepped free of the whirling vortex of travel into the sound of a child crying.
A swift assessment of the room revealed no obvious dangers and he sighed again, “Nightmare?”
Strangely enough he wasn't reluctant at all to let the child grip his robes and cry, and he settled them into the bed again with a calming draft and said, “No, don't worry, I’ll stay.”
He’d meant to say Until Morning but the words didn't come and when morning came he looked out upon the French countryside and sunshine and asked, “Harry, would you like me to come with you?”
Because Severus hated Albus Dumbledore, hated the castle as well and hated teaching and had for years.
And Harry, for reasons Severus didn’t understand, trusted him, cried on him, called him when terrified, and his own very dear dead friend would come back from the dead to kick his ass if he left her child alone like this.
Funnily enough his vow to protect the child didn't even enter his mind as he smiled at the shock, the hope, and the tears of relief when Harry said “Yes, oh please.”
“Come then, breakfast and then we need a map, and we need a bit of a plan as to where next but I’m sure we’ll figure it out.
“Oh, and are you going to stay as a young lady or - ” “BOY, I’ll pick a boy, just, fine, laugh at me why don't you!”
And over croissants and coffee for him, a full breakfast and tea for the boy, they did indeed figure out where to go first, and set off for the rest of their lives with smiles, and crumbs on his shirt which Severus brushed off with a brief tut right before they ran to catch the train.