Harry Potter and the Heir of the Four Founders

Chapter 1 - Something’s not right.

Nothing Harry Potter did was right. His Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had told him that for as long as he could remember and after the events of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Harry was starting to believe it himself, no matter what his friends and Professors tried to convince him ofotherwise. It didn’t help that almost half of the school thought he might have murdered Cedric to win the cup. Minister Fudge also didn't help by refusing to believe in the return of Voldemort and announcing that there would be a full investigation into Cedric’s death, including how it was that Harry managed to survive.

The aforementioned wizard was currently sitting on his bed in his small bedroom in Privet Drive. His trunk lay open at the end of his bed with his belongings strewn about the floor. The trip home on the Hogwarts Express had been difficult but inviting, as surprisingly, and if asked he would never have believed it himself, he wanted to go back to the Dursleys if only to get away from all the whispers and the pointing from his classmates and the other years. However, nothing had prepared him for the onslaught from his Uncle upon his return from Hogwarts. Vernon had dragged him and his trunk out of the car and upstairs. He tossed Harry in his small bedroom, throwing his trunk in after him hard enough to break it open, slamming the door shut and locking it without a word.

That had been four days ago. Now Harry sat dazed . He hadn’t eaten since the leaving feast at Hogwarts and even then it wasn’t all that much. He was weak from lack of food and his stomach was very painful. He'd had relieved himself into a bucket that had been one of Dudley’s unwanted Christmas presents.

What had really shocked Harry was the fact that his Aunt and Uncle had not spoken to him in four days. They hadn’t come to his room at all. He had heard them mumbling outside the door, but he could only catch a general idea from the few words that he could make out. The gist seemed to be about how they now had a killer under their roof and what were they going to do about him. It seemed that not only had Minister Fudge told the whole school he was guilty he had written to the Dursleys as well. Harry had a horrible feeling it wasn’t going to be long until he found out.

About an hour later as it started to get dark, Harry heard a key rattling in the lock. He looked up as the door opened and his Aunt and Uncle walked in. Petunia had a bowl of soup and some bread on a plate and Vernon carried a chain and padlock. He attached the chain around the leg of the radiator with the padlock and came over to Harry. Vernon snapped a handcuff around his left wrist and the other end through the end of the chain. Petunia left the tray on the desk and they both walked out. They key rattled in the lock again and then nothing. Not one word the whole time. Harry looked at the food and then turned away. He lay down and faced the wall and cried himself to sleep

* * * * * * * * * * *

‘Wormtail, bring the next one in.’

‘Yes Master’ squeaked Peter Pettigrew leading a boy of about 11 to stand in front of Voldemort

‘No he is to short’ Voldemort whispered something and there was a flash of green light as the boy crumpled to the ground. The body was dragged away before another took his place.

‘No, I told you black hair, green eyes. You do remember what he looks like don’t you Wormtail. Maybe I should refresh your memory. Crucio’ Voldemort screamed.

Harry sat up with a start. His scar was burning and he pressed hard with his fingers to try to stop the pain. As it subsided he lay back against the pillow, breathing hard. Harry pulled his fingers away from his forehead, they felt sticky and he sniffed at them. Blood. His scar was bleeding.

Harry leapt out of bed, dragging his chain across the floor to the mirror.

‘Potter’ bellowed Vernon. Harry stood still not daring to move. After a few tense minutes he sank to the floor, he couldn’t go back to bed, the chain made to much noise. Harry lay down on the floor and waited for the morning to arrive.

* * * * * * * * * * *

The next time Harry awoke it took him a few minutes to realise where he was. He heard someone coming up the stairs and a key rattling in the lock. The door opened and Dudley stuck his head in.

‘Here’ said Dudley throwing him a packet of crisps and a can of lemonade.

‘Thanks’ said Harry now completely shocked. Dudley went to close the door but opened it again and looked at Harry sceptically

‘You didn’t really kill that boy, did you?’ Harry shook his head. ‘I didn’t think so. Gotta go , Mum will be back from the shops soon. See ya.’ Dudley closed the door and locked it again.

Harry just sat there staring at the items in his hand. Dudley had just given him food. Dudley, his cousin, who put food above all else, even television, had just snuck in and given him food. Harry thought that this was getting out of hand and he wanted to know what was going on. He felt that he had gotten off the Hogwarts Express into the twilight zone.

Harry waited until he heard his Aunt come home and then he started banging on the door. He kept it up for what felt like hours but still she did not come. Finally Harry gave up and went over to the bed and sat down. He heard Vernon arrive home shortly after and come in the house.

‘Good evening Petunia dear. Hello Dudders.’ he bellowed as he walked up the stairs. Harry sat listening carefully, holding his breath as Petunia came clattering up the stairs. He heard them have a hushed conversation. Harry couldn’t hear what was said but he knew it was about him.

Suddenly the key rattled in the lock and the door was flung open. Vernon towered in the doorway, apoplectic with rage. The veins stood out on his neck and his face was purple.

‘Just who in the hell do you think you are boy’ Vernon yelled ‘We shelter you under our roof, we feed you’ Harry looked at the soup and stale bread from last night ‘clothe you’ He looked at Dudley’s hand me downs that were at least two sizes too big and back up at Vernon.

In hindsight this was not really the right thing to do. SMACK. Vernon had belted him across the side of the head with his fist. Harry stared at him with disbelief. His Uncle Vernon had yelled at him, shook him, chased him, hit him with things and slapped him before but he had never, ever, punched him. Harry hoped that it had also shocked him and that he would leave, but no such luck. Vernon grabbed hold of Harry and proceeded to beat, kick and punch every ’abnormality’ he thought Harry had in him. After about thirty minues he stopped.

’Maybe now you will be more grateful.’ sneered Vernon before guiding Petunia out of the room and locking the door behind him.

Harry carefully tried to uncurl from the ball he had used to try and protect himself.

’Oh my God.’ he croaked. Harry half dragged, half crawled over to the bed and lay down, wincing as he took stock of his injuries. He could only just see out of his right eye and not at all out of his left. His left cheek was swelling at an alarming rate which probably meant that his cheekbone had been shattered when it connected to Vernon’s foot. He thought his collarbone may be broken and he knew his wrist was. His left ankle and knee felt very bad and Harry had an awful suspicion they might be broken also. The fact that he found it almost impossible to breath meant that not all of his ribs were still intact. He lay on his back and waited, not knowing when, and if, Vernon was going to come back.

Many hours had past and Harry had not moved. His Aunt had looked in to the room twice. Probably to check that Harry wasn’t gong to get them into trouble by dying on them or anything.

* * * * * * * * *

The next few days went by in a haze. He could not move as the pain would just shoot throughout his body every time he tried. Harry had not seen, or heard from Vernon although Petunia had brought him bread and water. Not that Harry could move to get it no matter how hungry he was. After this happened the third time she thought he wasn’t eating out of spite and stopped bringing him anymore. Harry couldn’t even get up to relieve himself.

He had found that once he lay down everything seized up and he couldn’t have moved if he wanted to. Harry spent most of his time barely conscious. When he fell asleep the nightmares would return, but any movement during them would shock Harry awake gasping for breath as he waited for the pain to subside.

One evening the key rattled in the lock and the door swung open. Vernon walked into the room holding his nose.

‘You’re a filthy, disgusting excuse for a human being, look at the state of you. Can’t even be bothered to get up and go to the bathroom. Well don’t think we are going to get you clean sheets and clothes. You can just lie there like that.’ he bellowed and slammed the door shut.

‘Thank God’ breathed Harry thankful that he hadn’t touched him.

* * * * * * * * * *

The dreams that night were particularly vivid. Harry was standing in the forest. The mist around him seemed to blend itself into shapes as he walked. Then the dream faded away before Harry could figure out what the shapes were. Then he was in some sort of huge dungeon and Voldemort was sitting on his throne with his huge snake curled around it . He didn’t seem to be able to see Harry as he sat absentmindedly stroking the snake's head.

‘We must find a match soon my dear Nagini. We must take control of Harry Potter before that stupid muggle loving fool tells him the truth.’ Movement to the left of him snapped Voldemort out of his reverie. A small balding man rushed in and fell at Voldemort’s feet.

‘Master , we have found him’ Wormtail snivelled. A boy of about 12 stumbled into the room and looked up at the dark lord. Voldemort gasped. He was small and skinny with brown hair and green eyes.

Harry screamed as he woke. The sun was streaming in the window and thankfully the Dursleys didn’t seem to be home. He sat there for a while trying to slow his breathing and remembering the dream. What was Voldemort talking about and why did he try to find a boy that looked just like him albeit with lighter hair. Just the a key jangled in the lock and the door opened softly.

’Oh m-my G-God’ stuttered Dudley as he took in the scene before him. Harry was chained to the wall, lying on the bed covered in his own blood among other things, his face almost unrecognisable. As Dudley stepped closer he burst into tears.

’Dudley.’ Harry croaked ’Help me.’ Dudley wiped his eyes and looked around the room. He dashed to Harry’s trunk and started to rifle through it, searching frantically for a name or phone number of one of Harry’s friends.

’Quill.’ Harry whispered making eyes at a feather on the ground and then at Hedwig who was perched on the window sill. It took Dudley a few times looking at Harry, then at the quill and then at Hedwig before he realized what Harry meant. He tore out of the room and returned a few moments later with a piece of paper and a pen.

‘Dumbledore, you write.’ whispered Harry before passing out.

‘Dear Mr Dumbledore’ wrote Dudley. ‘My father has almost killed Harry. I don’t think he can last much longer. PEASE HURRY.’ He wrote in big letters before signing ‘Dudley Dursley.’ and folding the note in half. Dudley stood up holding the note and eyeing Hedwig thoughtfully. Hedwig solved the boy’s dilemma by grabbing the note out of his hands with her beak and taking off out the window. Dudley took one more look at Harry saying

‘Hold on . It shouldn’t be much longer’ and closed the door locking it after him. He then went downstairs to wait.