Disclaimer: I had the idea and it wouldn't go away.
Vengeance is MINE
Harry's eyes cracked open and he took in his surroundings with a glance. For a few moments, he stared in shocked incomprehension as his mind refused to believe what his eyes were seeing. The last thing he remembered was sitting in Potions class and then . . . something strange had happened.
"What in the hell am I doing back in the cupboard?" Harry muttered to himself, "and what in the hell am I doing in this godforsaken place?"
"Shut your mouth boy," the door opened and his Uncle's purple face filled doorway. "You had better remain silent and think about all the sacrifices your aunt and I have made so that you could live here."
"Only taking in triple the amount of calories needed to sustain a full grown whale?" Harry smirked, "now why don't you explain why I'm here."
"Why you're here?" Vernon looked like he was going to explode, "you're here because there are laws that say we can't throw you into the bloody street."
"You don't have the guts to throw out," Harry was starting to get angry. "You fat dumb piece of penguin excitement."
"Grwaaaaaaa," Vernon grabbed his nephew by the arm and marched towards the door. "Don't have the guts do I? Get out and never come back."
Harry flew out the door and landed painfully on the front walk, standing to dust himself off he took one last look at the front door.
"Guess I was wrong," Harry's tone turned thoughtful. "Guess he did have the guts after all."
Taking a look at himself for the first time since awakening in the cupboard, Harry was surprised to see that he had apparently regressed into a younger body.
"Now why didn't that dumb bastard notice?" Harry began walking down the street, "and where in the hell are my things?"
Shrugging his shoulders, Harry continued his walk to the park as he silently wondered what had caused him to go on this latest adventure.
"What are you doing out all alone at this time of night?"
Harry jumped at the voice behind him, "nothing officer."
"What's your name?"
"I don't think I should say," Harry bit his lower lip.
"Why aren't you at home?" The police man questioned, "you can't be more than five or six years old."
"I've just been thrown out." Harry had an evil idea, if he was going to be in his younger body then he might as well have fun with it. "My uncle said that I was lucky that he took in a worthless brat like me in the first place and that the law wouldn't do anything to help me."
"He did, did he?" The Police man frowned, "where is your uncle?"
"I don't want to be any trouble," Harry hid his smirk. "I'll just go live in the park, my uncle said that houses are too good to be sullied by my presence."
"Why don't you come with me," the Police man fought hard to keep all signs of rage off his face. "And I'll get you some food."
"I already ate yesterday sir," Harry replied politely. "So it would be a waste to feed me until tomorrow."
"Let me worry about that," the Law Enforcement Officer replied kindly. "You just worry about getting enough to eat."
The Officer lifted Harry up and placed him in the passenger seat of his squad car, "you and I are going to take a ride to the station."
"Can we turn on the siren?" Harry's eyes lit up, it was something he had always wanted to do.
"If you want," the Officer nodded. "Now why don't you tell me about this uncle of yours?"
"He's really big," Harry began. "And his face turns purple when he's angry at me."
"Does he get angry at you often?" The Officer asked as he pulled away from the curb.
"Not very often," Harry shook his head. "Only a few times a day."
"I see . . . does," the Officer took a breath. "Does he ever hit you?"
"I'm not suppose to say," Harry allowed his voice to fall to a whisper. "Uncle Vernon will get angry."
"If you tell me," the Officer gave a warm smile. "I'll show you which button turns the siren on."
"Sometimes," Harry nodded slowly. "But only because he needs to beat 'it' out of me."
"Beat what out of you?" His grip on the wheel tightened.
"I don't know," Harry managed to force out a tear. "But it must be very bad."
"Hit this button here," the officer indicated a button. "It'll turn on the lights and siren."
"Ok," Harry hit the button and was rewarded by a loud whine and flashing lights. "Are you going to hit me now?"
"Why would I hit you?" The Officer knew that he wasn't going to like the answer.
"Because my Uncle says that nothing good can happen to me without a good beating afterwards," Harry forced himself to shiver. "He said that it'll keep me from getting my hopes up."
"Well, I'm not going to hit you for any reason." The Officer replied firmly, "I forgot to mention but my name is Officer Patrick Jones. Why don't you tell me your name?"
"My Uncle usually calls me boy or you," Harry replied. "But my name is Harry."
"Well Harry," the car pulled into a parking space. "We're at the Police station, why don't we go in and I'll give you that food I promised you."
"Ok," Harry nodded.
Officer Jones took Harry into the station house and set him at a desk with a box of doughnuts and a large cup of tea.
"I have to go talk to some people so I won't be here for a little while," the Officer made sure to give a wide grin. "But I'll be back, and when I come back I want to see that you've eaten as many of these doughnuts as you can. Ok Harry?"
"Ok Officer Jones," Harry nodded.
Harry was on his third doughnut when he noticed the newspaper, figuring that he would look to see if there were any signs of Death Eater activity. Opening the paper, he nearly dropped his doughnut when he noticed the date . . . he still had five years before he could go to Hogwarts.
I have two choices, Harry mused to himself as he took another bite of doughnut. I can try to contact Dumbledore to get back to my own time, or I can stay here and try to set things right . . . and make Vernon's life hell of course.
"Hello," a female police officer had managed to walk into the room without being noticed.
Harry looked up from his newspaper in shock, "hi."
"Do you like looking at the newspaper?" She knelt beside Harry's chair and shot him a warm grin.
"I'm sorry," Harry flinched. "I know I'm not supposed to, I'm sorry."
"No one is angry," the woman's voice was soft and soothing. "It's ok to look at the newspaper if you want to."
"Really?" Harry figured that he was overacting a bit, but why mess with what seemed to be working.
"Really," she nodded. "It's very interesting isn't it?"
"Yes," Harry nodded. "But I can't read it yet, just some of the words."
"That's very good," the woman smiled. "I'm Sergeant Samantha, I'm a friend of Officer Patrick."
"I'm Harry Potter," Harry smiled. "Pleased to meet you."
"Those clothes don't look very comfortable," the woman shook her head. "For one thing, they're too big for you."
"I don't have anything else," Harry allowed his shoulders to drop. "I'm sorry."
"It's ok," Sergeant Samantha patted him on the shoulder. "Would you like some new clothes?"
"Ok," Harry nodded. "But are you sure you want to waste the money?"
"It's not a waste to get you new clothes Harry," she assured him. "In fact, I can't think of a better way to spend department funds."
"If you're sure," Harry fought the urge to laugh. "But my Uncle says that I should be Happy to get Dudley's old things and my Aunt agrees with him, she says that a worthless boy like me should be happy for what I get."
"Well I disagree." She had to force herself not to frown, child neglect cases always got to her. "I'll have some new clothes for you in just a second."
The Policewoman left the room and returned a few minutes later carrying a box of clothing, "why don't you change out of those clothes and into these ones?"
"Will you wait outside?" Harry turned red. "I don't want to do it with you watching me."
"I'll be right outside if you need me," the policewoman agreed. "Just knock on the door.
"Ok," Harry gave struggled pitifully with his shirt for a few moments before conceding defeat, looked like Vernon's throw might have broken something. Walking toward the door with a sigh, Harry knocked.
"Yes?" Sergeant Samantha knelt down and smiled.
"I can't get my shirt off," Harry admitted. "Could you help me, but only with that?
"Sure I can," the Policewoman winced she saw the line of scar, the bruises, and the half healed cuts that covered the boy's chest and back. "Harry, could you tell me how all this happened?"
"I'm not supposed to say," Harry frowned.
"That's ok," Sergeant Samantha smiled. "But I'm going to have to call my friend in to look at all this, he's a Paramedic and he'll help you."
"Ok," Harry nodded.
The woman stepped outside the door for a moment and called in a Paramedic. "Harry, this is my friend Nigel. He's a Paramedic, that means that he rides around in an ambulance."
"Hello Harry," Nigel smiled.
"Hello Nigel," Harry smiled back.
The man spent several minutes checking over and bandaging Harry's injuries before he would allow Harry to resume changing.
"Thanks for being so patient Harry," Nigel smiled. "Sergeant Samantha and I will give you some privacy so that you can get back to changing."
"I do have to ask one thing before I go," Sergeant Samantha smiled. "What's your address?"
"Why?" Harry's eyes narrowed.
"So we can drop off your old clothes," Sergeant Samantha answered with a straight face.
"Oh," Harry couldn't believe that they expected him to fall for such a lame trick. "It's number 4 Privet Drive."
"Thank you Harry," Sergeant Samantha smiled. "You've been a lot of help."
Sergeant Samantha took Nigel by the arm and the two of them stepped out into the hallway.
"Well?" She forced herself to keep her voice down to keep the boy from overhearing.
"I found signs consistent with neglect and abuse," Nigel confirmed. "One of the bruises on his arm looked like it had been caused by a large hand gripping it to tight."
"That's all I needed to hear," Sergeant Samantha gave a cold smile. "Jones, go talk to the people at Number 4 Privet Drive."
"On it," the Officer nodded. "I have a feeling that this one might resist arrest so . . ."
"Be sure to bring a lot of back up," the woman nodded. "I think you're right about this one resisting arrest."
Three hours later, a badly beaten Vernon Dursley was escorted into the Police Station by several large humorless officers.
"Toss him in cell three," Sergeant Samantha ordered coldly.
"Isn't that the one with the biker gang?"
"Your point is?"
"Just asking," the Officer shrugged. "Wanted to make sure I didn't put him somewhere else by mistake."
"Get to it," the Sergeant smiled. "I want his stay to be memorable."
It wasn't until the next day that Dumbledore managed to track down the whereabouts of Harry and his relatives. He had been awoken early the previous morning by a frantic Ms. Figg, and had spent the intervening time searching.
"Can I help you?" The Desk Sergeant greeted the old man with a frown, "I'm looking for Harry Potter and Vernon Dursley."
In the end, it had taken the Headmaster several hours and several memory charms before he managed to get things the way they were supposed to be. Over their protests, he had placed Harry back with his relatives and insured their cooperation with several threats.
Wonder why he didn't bother wiping our memories, Harry mused to himself. Guess it doesn't really matter, I wonder what I should do to Vernon tomorrow.
"Hello sir," Harry walked up to the front desk in a police station.
"Hello lad," the Desk Sargent smiled. "What can I do for you?"
"My uncle told me to go out and give a group of lonely men a good time for some money," Harry frowned. "And he said to avoid the stupid pigs because they'd just ruin everything."
"Really?" The Policeman fought to remain calm. "Did he say anything else."
"No sir," Harry shook his head. "But I lost the address and I can't find the lonely men so I decided to come here to ask you, they told us in school that you can always trust a policeman because they're smart and good and I thought you could also protect me from the nasty pigs."
"Why don't you have a seat lad," the Policeman gave a warm smile. "And have a cup of tea, what did you say your uncle's name was again?"
It took several hours, but the Headmaster managed wipe the memories of every official involved and have Harry and his relatives back home before midnight.
The next day, Harry's relatives refused to let him out of the house so Harry phoned in an anonymous tip that the Dursleys were selling drugs right before he was to be locked in his cupboard. It seemed that the headmaster's efforts were only successful in wiping the physical records that Vernon had been arrested several times, the new electronic records remained un touched and the Department was eager to finally get a chance to pin something on the man that had apparently managed to dodge several arrests.
The Police that raided the house were shocked and disgusted to find a young boy locked under the stairs rather than the drugs that they expected to find, but in the end it resulted in another charge of resisting arrest for Vernon and another sleepless night of memory modification for the Dumbledore.
"Why don't you take the second bedroom?" Vernon suggested nervously the second he spotted his nephew, "that way you have more space."
"Ok," Harry shrugged. Looked like his relatives could be trained after all.
Harry awoke early the next morning and removed the money needed to pay for his trip to London from his uncle's wallet.
It did not take long to find the entrance to the wizarding world and all he had to do to gain entrance to the alley was bat his eyes and look cute.
His first stop was to the Wizarding bank to make a withdrawal.
"Key please," the Goblin frowned down from behind his desk.
"I don't have it," Harry replied. "But I suppose that there is some way that you can get it for me?"
"Place your hand on the desk," the goblin replied in a board tone. "It will sample your blood and determine if you are telling the truth about having a vault."
"And if I'm not?"
"Then your parents will be contacted," the Goblin continued in his board tone.
"Oh," Harry shrugged and placed his hand on the desk. "I thought you'd lock me up or something."
"Not until you're older," the Goblin frowned down at something. "Confirmed, how much do you want to withdraw?"
"Is there a limit?" Harry asked quietly.
"No," the Goblin shook his head.
"Then as much as you think I need for a lot of shopping and a bit leftover," Harry shrugged. "And I suspect that I'm going to make at least one very large purchase."
"Have a big sack 'o gold then," the Goblin handed over a big sack 'o gold. "And don't spend it all in one place."
"Ok," Harry nodded. It looked like Goblins treated children differently . . . or he just had a weird one.
Harry's first stop was a shop that advertised used wands.
"Aren't you a little young to be here?" The shopkeeper smirked as he looked down at Harry.
"No I'm not," Harry frowned. "I was brewing up a potion and I must have done something wrong because now I look like this and I can't find my wand."
"Oh," the clerk's condescending smirk turned into a look of sympathy. "What did they say a St. Mungos?"
"I'll start looking like myself again if I give it enough time," Harry smiled at the half truth. "But until that happens, I need a new wand."
"Of course," the clerk nodded. "Come with me."
Harry followed the man to a large shelf at the back of the store.
"We don't have many," the man indicated a small selection of wands. "But here they are, pick any one you want."
"Aren't I suppose to wave it and get sparks or something?" This was nothing like the first time.
"Haven't done it since first year huh," the man shook his head. "Won't be as good as your first wand, but it's better than nothing."
"I suppose," Harry selected the only wand that he could grip comfortably. "Thanks."
"No problem," the shopkeeper nodded. "I've had experience with bad changes myself."
"It isn't fun," Harry frowned.
"Speaking of which," the shopkeeper saw the potential for another sale. "I might have something to help you with your ahem little problem."
"It's a small device that allow you to look like another person, down to hight and weight." The shopkeeper smiled, "granted you won't look like yourself."
"But I won't look like this either," Harry finished. "I'll take it."
"Excellent, let me just bag up your purchases."
The first thing that Harry did upon exiting the store was to activate the strange item he had bought to make himself look a few years older, the second thing he did was to test out his new wand with a few simple charms.
Harry made three more stops before returning to his relatives house. The first was to buy a new trunk with a self shrinking charm, and the second was to get a bunch of cool things that will appear if I think they'll be funny or enhance the story line and it might be a good idea to assume that he got some candy and food too. And the last stop was to buy some new books, because what fic is complete without buying a bunch of new books.
Harry spent several hours browsing the book store and managed to fill several everlite baskets with an assortment of books.
"What can I do for you lad?" The man behind the counter asked with a knowing grin.
"Err, I'd like to buy these and I'd also like to get a copy of Hogwarts a History," Harry managed a weak smile. "If that's not too much trouble?"
"No trouble at all," the man winked as he reached under the counter. "Here you are . . . Hogwarts a History, hope you enjoy it as much as I do."
"Um," Harry was getting a bit confused at the man's attitude. "Thanks."
"Don't mention it," the man chuckled. "I remember what it's like to be your age."
Harry paid for the book and caught the knight bus back to his relatives' house. Taking care not to make any noise, Harry managed to get up the stairs and into his room before the Dursley's noticed his presence.
"Well," Harry muttered to himself. "Time to see what Hermione finds so fascinating about this book."
Harry settled down and began to read, the first few pages were rather boring, giving an overview of the house structure. The next few hundred pages weren't so bad as they mainly covered with the formation of the castle and it was interesting to see what spells and wards were used int the construction. After that, after that it started to get weird.
"I never knew that Hogwarts a History had things like this," Harry turned the book sideways to get a better look at the centerfold. After several minutes of admiration, Harry turned to the next page. "How to drive any woman wild in bed?" Unable to turn away, Harry read that section, and the next, and the next.
By the end of the night, Harry's face was so red that it would have been hard to convince an outside observer that it could have ever been another shade.
"And this is Hermione's favorite book?" Harry turned the book sideways to admire another centerfold, "guess I don't know her as well as I thought I did . . . I wonder if Ron knows about this."
AN: I had the Hogwarts a History idea and I had the idea of doing a fic where Harry went back in time and tormented his relatives, so I decided to combine them. I might do a separate one of these just for the Hermione scene to turn it into it's own fic, I'm not sure.