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Potter's Unfortunate Return	By : MirkyTwilight Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > General Views: 7490 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter Series/Characters. No monies are being made, they are owned by their creators, producers, and so forth. I'm only using and abusing them for my sick pleasure. Cheers! :) Mirky.

Chapter List
- 1-Potter's Unfortunate Return
- 2-PUR 2
- 1
- 2
Title: Potter's Unfortunate Return

Summary: Dead people just didn’t appear on your doorstep with smiles and hopeful eyes… until now that is.

Warning: No Pairing, Little Angst, and Weasley's on Harry's side. If you're expecting Harry to hug his parents and be all 'happy' in this fic then hit the back button. Enjoy!

Potter's Unfortunate Return

Severus hunched over his desk, eyes glaring at the roll of parchment that was blotched with red ink. His lips muttered curses and scoffed at the written words by the ‘dunderheads’ who didn’t know the mere basics that was the fine art of brewing. As his quill scratched boldly across the parchment a knock came to his door. With a frown he knew the hour was late the students should be in bed. “Enter.” He called out, wondering if one of his snakes were having an issue. It wasn’t uncommon for any of the younger years to come to his door.

“Sir?” The door opened a crack and Severus heaved a sigh.

“What do you want brat.” His tone wasn’t laced with the usual malice he felt towards the boy. In fact, he surprised himself with the pity he felt… the world was definitely an odd place.

Harry closed the door softly, “Can I speak with you Sir. Please.” He added quickly.

Severus picked up his wand and waved it over the parchment which dried and rolled itself neatly, “Sit Potter.”

Harry gave a small nod; he was unbelievably nervous, shaky even. Not because of the Professor, the day had started out alright but the same couldn’t be said for the hours following, “Did you know about my parents will?” Harry blurted out.

Wand tapping on the scuffed wood of his desk Severus answered. “I knew of a will but not its contents. Why do you ask?”

“It wouldn’t come to a surprise to you if I told you Dumbledore has been robbing me blind?”

His jaw clenched, “The Headmaster is your guardian…”

“No, he’s not.” Harry shook his head, “Black had been since he was my godfather then the title fell to the Dursley’s. He shouldn’t have had access to my vaults.”

“Potter, has it occurred to you that the will is nothing but a fake, a mere formality of convenience?” Severus stared at the boy, willing him to understand, to come to the true conclusion he was unable to speak aloud.

“The will had to be followed whether they were alive or not.”

“Who was the executioner of the will Potter?” Severus set down his wand and interlocked his fingers as he leaned over, eyes boring into defiant ones across from him. “The will truly means nothing if they’re alive. The Potter’s chose Albus for a reason, whatever that reason was, they were all in on it. Take all that you’ve learned and mull it over. What’s your conclusion?”

Harry’s eyes drifted away and silence stretched between the two. Pressing his lips together Harry shook his head, “Voldemort was right.” The words weren’t shouted but they should have been, Severus eyes widened a fraction and he remained absolutely still. Harry rubbed at his scar as he stood and left, the door shutting quietly behind him.

“Albus… what have you done?” Severus muttered to himself defeated.

OoO

Harry wandered aimlessly; he didn’t particularly care where he was going he just didn’t want to stop because if he stopped… he was afraid he wouldn’t have the strength to keep strong. Merlin, he’d been acting like a blubbering fool, crying left and right, all emotional as if he were some girl! Was there an excuse? Of course there was, there was a very good reason why his eyes were on occasion puffy and slightly red.

Why shouldn’t he feel resentment? Anger? Humiliation? All those mixed up emotions that had him… had him … just wanting to kill someone. It was those thoughts, those emotions that drew in the one person he worked so hard to keep out.

He wasn’t crazy enough to latch onto the smooth talking of the wizard who played the role of some concerned parent. Harry wouldn’t put any trust in the wizard’s silky words that sounded well and good but one should never trust anything that comes past snake lips and forked tongues. He wasn’t that far gone yet and he was sure Aunt Molly (as she wanted to be referred to) would box his ears. Voldemort had nothing on the red haired woman that was for sure.

OoO

The silence between the two stretched. Albus removed his glasses and settled his face in his hands, “What to do now my boy, what to do now.”

“The boy may be a lot of things Albus but I have confidence he won’t defect.” The Headmaster perked but Severus made sure to add, “But I’m not so sure he’s willing to fight.”

“He has to.” Was the quick response and Severus stood quiet. He learned to keep his thin lips pressed together and still his tongue as his mind spoke what he desperately wanted to say. “The people need a beacon of light and hope. Harry is and will become what they need to be.”

OoO

Court had been bright and early one Saturday morning. Harry’s attorney was a portly woman far taller than Ron himself. She had dark almost violet eyes and tons of freckles on her round cheeks. Her laugh was contagious and Harry felt quite comfortable around the woman. It was curious how someone so nice would catch the attention of the dour Professor Snape?

“Now lad, just sit and hush and we’ll straighten this mess out.” Said the attorney; giving a wink to the nervous boy. Bertha, as was her name, stood proud and tall, her notes spread neatly along the table. Behind her was a clump of red heads and friends of her sweet client.

As per the course of a trial dealing with Familial Ties there was one judge who was called the Mediator. The mediator gave several loud knocks with his knuckles on the high brass like podium he sat on donned in traditional dark robes. “The party of Potter and Potter.” The Mediator gazed below, “Now this is an odd sight.” And from there you can say that the truth – not the whole truth mind you – was spilled forth.

The hour was long and tedious and fell well into the second hour and it was then that the Mediator decided enough was enough. While amused at first and enthralled by the woven tales by the two parties he knew he needed to end this and most importantly make it in enough time to meet his husband for a late lunch. “The law is the law. It is my job to make sure they are upheld. If it were up to me the lot of you,” he eyed the Potters, “Would be in custody for a slew of reasons and you as well Mr. Black would take part in that but seeing as that’s not my call I can only hope you reap what you’ve sewn. As for the custody of one Harry James Potter, your requests are denied. Young Harry Potter will remain emancipated but I will agree the boy needs a form of guardianship and I’ve received several requests.” The Mediator held up a folder that looked as if it held more than several requests. “I find it comforting that your side,” he spared a glance at the Potter’s who shared smiles with one another, “Have found many suitable potentials. I’ve looked over every possible one and I’ve suitably rejected them.”

The Potter’s and friends stood on their feet and shouted about the ‘injustice’. Harry on the other hand sagged in relief. His attorney rested a large hand on his shoulder and leaned down, “Wait for it.”

The Mediator rapped his knuckles on the brass polished top, the sound seemingly amplified. “Sit down or you all will be removed.”

“High Wizard,” the Potter’s attorney spoke out, “This is most unusual. Who else would agree to house the child? He needs to be with family with sufficient housing and protection. As a ward of the state he won’t get that.”

“And I agree.” The Mediator shuffled papers until he pulled out a single piece of paper, “I have chosen the most suitable guardianship for young Harry, the Weasley’s.” The man smiled down at the gob smacked boy. He never expected they, the Weasley’s, would go against the Headmaster no matter how upset they were. Turning in his seat he was met by two toothy smiles from the Weasley’s, thumbs up from his roommates who were there on his behalf. He was lucky, truly lucky, and Harry felt it was a good day. A very good day.

OoO

A glare was all he could muster at them. He wanted nothing to do with them, not now or ever. He knew deep down that eventually he would forgive them, Harry didn’t like the prospect of these emotions he felt towards them all festering and ruining what little future he may just have.

It was bad enough he had Voldemort in his head encouraging him to take hold of his bitterness and use it to side with him – yada, yada, yada – but that was nothing compared to the press. At first the Prophet, in a show of restraint, hadn’t mentioned a word about the Potter’s living but once the trial had been over with it was as if there was no Voldemort and Just Potter this and Potter that.

Owls upon owls visited him bringing letters of pleads for interviews. Galleons on top of galleons were offered and to top it off he was getting howlers! HOWLERS! Not just any howlers, but howlers from complete strangers who scolded him, who were angry that he wasn’t grateful that he had parents… he could go on and on but with each one he let simply burst in all its exaggerated glory before the great hall. There was not an ounce of embarrassment that could have him blush or want to huddle beneath the table and wish for the floor to swallow him whole… he was just… just did not care.

There, he had said it, said it to anyone who questioned him. “I don’t care.” And it was more than true; he was beginning to feel this numbness towards the Wizarding World. At first he was upset but that coupled with the emotions he felt for the Potter’s was simply too much so he did what he did towards the Dursley’s – he accepted. The wizards and witches of this world were idiots.

Plain. And. Simple.

A bunch of idiots.

Voldemort was an idiot.

The Potter’s were idiots.

The Marauder’s were idiots.

Dumbledore was an idiot.

Almost everyone was labeled Idiot and he couldn’t be bothered to care.

Why should he?

If it wasn’t for a handful of people he would have left this world, taken all his gold, converted it to muggle pounds, and left. As simple as that sounded he knew it wasn’t that simple. He barely had a muggle education; he would need to spend money for tutors, transportation, housing, and there was no telling how long what money he did have hold on would allow him to simply live as he searched for a job.

“Harry?” Hermione settled herself beside him, the library was peacefully quiet.

“Yea.” His quills feather tapped his blank parchment, his mind wandering, not really caring he had an essay due in a matter of hours.

“Do you trust me?”

Harry blinked, blinked again only with a frown he simply stared at his friend. “Of course I do.”

Hermione shook her head, “No, I mean trust me. I trust you with my life and secrets; can you say the same for me?” Harry hesitated and so she pushed, “I know I nag and can get on your case but I do it because I do love you Harry. You’re my best friend, my brother practically. You saved my life Harry and I know in a heart beat I would do the same for you. I have no doubt you wouldn’t do the same, you’ll do it for anybody I think, but I would like to think you can come to me for anything; no secrets, no games, just Harry and Hermione, the two of us.”

Harry stared – he was floored. He didn’t know quite how long he just sat there, the two of them in such a deep silence but he felt it before he could understand it. His throat closed and his eyes prickled. Swallowing the lump that kept him from croaking out a word he reached out a hand and took hers, “I – I trust you ‘Mione.” Hesitating, “I just don’t trust myself.”

Her other hand placed over his, “Can you trust me to listen? Talk to me Harry.”

Harry gave a nod, “Ok, but I need Ron here as well.”

“Alright,” she gave a firm nod, determined, “We’ll grab him, go to the kitchens, and settle in the Room of Requirements.”

OoO

There was truth and then there was whole truth where nothing was held back; the truth that warranted absolute quiet with no interruptions and in this case the need for something stronger than Butterbeer or tea. The hour was late but neither one cared, “You’re a weird one mate.” Ron leaned forward, body in a slouch and head bent.

“Ron!” Hermione scowled, “You are so insensitive!”

“Leave him be ‘Mione. He’s right, I am weird. Who else can say they have a Dark Lord in their mind trying to bribe him to the dark side.” Harry watched as the armchair he sat on stretched, allowing him to rest his head on the cushions. “I’m such a mess.”

“You’re not weird Harry… you’re just unique.” Hermione assured.

“I’m weird. My whole life is like one big pot of weirdness. Even without Voldemort on my case I still have the Potter’s.”

“You can’t get rid of family Harry, trust me.” Ron gave a large yawn. “The twins are still around.”

Frowning Harry said, “That’s the thing, they’re not family. The Dursley’s are more family than they are. They abandoned me and I don’t care what their reasons are. It would be different if it was something dramatic like they were in comas or… suffered from amnesia.”

Hermione hesitated, “Maybe they thought they were doing the right thing.” Cringing at the glare sent her way she continued forward, “I’m just saying it’s common for mothers to give their children up because they can’t handle it or to give them a better life than they did.”

“Oh please!” Ron shook his head, “That’s a load of bull.”

“I’m just saying!” Hermione defended.

Harry sighed and turned over so he stared at the dark nothingness that was the ceiling. He watched it ripple and change to a proper ceiling with wooden beams. His ankles crossed on the leg of the sofa and he had to give a point to Hermione. He may not like what she had said but he knew enough about the real world to understand that lots of people abandoned their children… but Harry knew that his situation was inexcusable – it just had to be. There were so many options… his mother would have known that the Dursley’s weren’t exactly the most loving family.

Maybe it was simply how they behaved as if they were entitled to have him. It would have been different had he been younger sitting in his cupboard with a growling tummy craving those hugs and kisses… but he was of age. He didn’t need those hugs and kisses; there was no need for a dad or mom when he was able to go off on his own. “Harry?” it was Hermione. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t upset me.” Glancing at the two, Ron’s ears were pink he must have lost the argument they had. “I was just thinking and you’re right but wrong at the same time.”

“Told you so.” Ron grumbled and Hermione rolled her eyes.

“I know I am,” as if it pained her, Hermione said aloud, “Ronald made a point.” She stressed his name. “The Potter’s weren’t down and out; they were wealthy and had the opportunity to make sure you were given a life that you could have had.”

“The fact is the Potter’s had Lupin and Black. Faking Black’s imprisonment and using the excuse of Lupin’s lyncthropy doesn’t explain a lot of things. No offence mate but they’re a bunch of good for nothing…”

“Alright, we get it.” Hermione raised her tone, sending a pointed look in Ron’s direction. “The Potter’s aren’t worth their weight in gold. Bad enough they had Dumbledore to hide behind but now we have to deal with the papers. I think you should make a statement Harry, tell the world your side of the story.”

Harry shook his head, “No. I couldn’t care less what the world thinks of me. Their opinion doesn’t matter to me; I learned that a long time ago.” A few moments passed between the three, “I’ve been thinking.” He was going to say it and there was no way to take it back, “What’s my reason for going after Voldemort?” Shocked silence met his question. “Honestly, I no longer have a reason to kill him. Why should a seventeen year old be responsible for murdering someone with fifty plus years of Dark Art’s experience?”

“Are you quitting? Can you quit?” Ron frowned.

Harry bit his thumb nail and thought about it. “Everyone’s told me I have to kill him because he killed my parents well they’re not dead. If they’re not dead and he didn’t kill them then why in hell should I care?” Ron and Hermione glanced at one another, “They left me for dead.” Harry sat up. “How could any parent leave their child for dead?”

Hesitantly Ron added, “Black was there, he gave you to Hagrid.”

Hermione butted in, “Then Hagrid gave you to Dumbledore who left you at the Dursley’s. Have the Dursley’s ever told you anyone came looking for you?”

Harry shook his head, “No. Ms. Figg was my only minder.” In thought Harry frowned and stared at the floor, the hard wood rippled to that of cement then plush carpet. “The Potter’s said they used Pollyjuiced decoys.”

“Yea, they belonged to the Order.” Ron added, following so far.

Harry gave Ron a pointed look, “Then why is it whenever I get too close to a Dementor I hear my mom pleading for my life. ‘Not Harry, not my son’. Wouldn’t a babysitter break character or even leave? Never once did any of them call one another by any other name besides that of Lily and James. Dumbledore told me it was my mother’s love and willing sacrifice that protected me from Voldemort’s wand. How is that possible? Tell me Ron, how I could have this scar,” Harry’s fingers drifted over the puckered skin on his brow, “When it wasn’t my mother who gave her life up but a member of the Order?” It was a question that wouldn’t receive an answer, “Dumbledore always said I was special.” Harry’s eyes shifted away. “Of course Voldemort would choose me seeing as I’m like him.”

Hermione was quick to interrupt him, “You’re nothing like him Harry. Don’t listen to him.” Harry took a deep breadth, “He’s in your head right now isn’t he?”

Harry gave a nod, “He says I’m just like him, we could be great together. He’s bloody annoying but he makes valid points.”

“Harry listen to us, you’re nothing like him mate. You’re a Gryffindor; Gryffindor’s don’t become Dark Lord’s.” Both Hermione and Harry simply stared at him “What? I’m trying to help here.”

“In 1562 Sir Robert Pennington was a Gryffindor and was the Dark Lord then.” Harry repeated as it was said in his mind.

“He mustn’t have been that good, never heard of him before.”

“Professor Binn’s spoke about him last week, weren’t you paying attention?” Hermione questioned.

“I was sleeping! Merlin woman you’re the only one who can listen to him drone without keeling over.”

Harry watched them bicker back and forth, for a moment Voldemort was silent as well. “You know there are plenty of former Gryffindor’s in Voldemort’s troops right?” the two friends quieted, “Pettigrew isn’t the only one and I have an idea to stop all this madness. The question is, are you with me, really with me?”

“I’m in.” Hermione said.

“Count me in.” Ron added with a firm nod.

OoO

Dobby shifted where he stood, “Harry Sir needs anything else?”

Harry stalled his pacing and smiled down at his friend. “No I’m fine. Thank you Dobby.”

Dobby swelled, “Oh Harry Sir!” and Dobby was gone.

“He’s really attached to you.” Hermione gave a small smile.

“You can’t help but like him, he makes the best hot coco.” Continuing his pacing Harry thought over his speech. Today was the day that it was all going to change – for worse or good – it won’t be the same.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Ron questioned yet again. “You can always send a letter to the papers.”

“It would make more of a statement if I’m seen saying it. I’m just so nervous; I don’t want to ruin this.” Deep breadth, “You’re parents will be there right?”

“Of course! The twins said they’ll be there to pass out some commemorative souvenirs.”

“What are they doing now?”

Harry watched fondly as his two friends argued about nothing, they could argue about a lopsided table for some odd reason. It was as if they thrived on it.

OoO

Severus nearly choked on his tea. Potter’s house elf delivered a neat scroll tied with a ribbon, when he unrolled it he never expected what he read. “Potter! You idiot!” standing he was a rush of movements and sharp movements of his wands.

In record time he had his Death Eater robes and mask in hand as he stormed through the castle and outside Hogwarts property line and apparated away.

OoO

Dumbledore wasn’t so fortunate. The Headmaster had decided to take a moment for himself and soak inside a hot bubbling bath. House elves were forbidden from entering his bathroom so Dobby rested the rolled parchment on the Headmaster’s desk, carefully placing random papers above it so it wouldn’t be noticeable. His Harry Sir may have not asked for it but Dobby felt that it would be best if the Headmaster was left unaware.

OoO

For a fee Gringotts Bank allowed him use of one of their rooms. It was fairly large, large enough to handle the amount of reporters and those he had invited without making such a big fuss. Harry stood at the podium that was just slightly higher than the crowds. At his side were his friends who refused to leave him, not now, not after the countless hours of discussion. They were a team and they would stick together. Harry’s eyes ran over the salivating vultures’ that were the wizards and witches of the papers; who knew there were so many newspapers and reporters? Amongst the crowd he noticed quite a few cloaked individual’s and judging by the tingling of his scar it was safe to say that Voldemort was in the crowd as well.

Mr. Weasley gestured with his pocket watch telling Harry that it was time. Time to lay it all on the line, “I would like to first thank you all for coming and to let you know that the Goblins have graciously warded this space so your quick quills that doctor words are null.” A smirk played on his lips as there was groans and rummaging as a few of the reporters scrambled to find quills. “I have an announcement…”

End Pt 2
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Potter's Unfortunate Return