Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own anything from Harry Potter. If I did, I would be rich, and writing Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, not this fic.
Summery: AU. No Magic. Harry Potter is the new boy in school, and he catches the eye of the school's most popular boy. But when Harry's most dangerous ghost catches up with him, will Draco survive where another didn't? Warnings: abuse, rape, death, SLASH.
A/N: Hi! I've had the idea for this for years, ever since I read a really good non-magic fic, but I've never had the patience to write it down. But, it's finally gotten so annoying that I decided to finally write it. I really hope that you like it! Please review! I'd love to know what you think!
To Start Afresh.
Rain fell steadily from the grey cloudy sky, pattering softly on the pavement. The dark haired boy walked quickly down the road, the water trickling down his neck, inside his worn coat. Harry Potter shivered at the tickle of cold wetness making it's way underneath his shirt. He was stuck walking to school in the rain, while his whale of an uncle would drive his even fatter cousin.
The large black car sailed past as he turned onto the road to his school, purposely driving through a large puddle, and the slim boy had to jump hastily out of the way to avoid being splashed. Shaking his head slightly, Harry watched his cousin stick his fingers up at him through the water-streaked window.
Continuing down the road, Harry walked through two wrought iron gates and up to the main steps of the imposing stone building. Hogwarts High School was hundreds of years old, and one of the best schools in the country. He was amazed that he was allowed to come here, but when the police had arranged the family's move to Baywater, they had enrolled both Harry and Dudley in the same school, and his aunt and uncle had been unable to change it, despite their protests.
Heading inside the building, Harry wove around the hoards of students, both uniformed and not, depending on their year group. Finally finding the corridor housing the main offices (after asking directions from a red-headed girl), Harry walked up to his uncle and cousin as they waited outside the head's office.
"Took you long enough, boy," Vernon snarled out of the corner of his mouth.
Harry bowed his head and didn't bother to reply to the large man, moving away from Dudley as the large blond boy jostled his arm. The door to the office opened, and the pleasant face of an old man with a long grey beard poked out.
"Please, gentlemen, come in," he smiled.
The two Dursleys entered the office, followed by Harry, who entered far more slowly, standing behind the chairs in which his relatives had seated themselves.
"Well, let's get down to business, shall we? I am Professor Dumbledore," the headmaster said as he sat down behind his desk. "I have enrolled both your son and your nephew in their courses Mr. Dursley, and have their timetables here. I understand that your recent move and the events of the past few months have taken their toll upon your family, and have ensured that all of our security measures are working correctly. Of course, your history has not been reported upon in Baywater, being as far away from Surrey as it is. I would like to say, however, that if there is any hassle from students who have heard of your situation, then I would urge you to see me as soon as possible. I also grant some, but not much, leniency in Harry's case. I know that you have suffered a great trauma lately, and this may cause you some problems in settling in, but I expect some good work from you, Mr. Potter."
"What about my Dudley?" Vernon burst out. "He deserves more leniency than the boy! Potter's the reason we're here! Dudley has had to leave his friends, his coach-his whole life behind and come here! That is a huge upheaval!"
"Of course, Dudley may have some difficulties in settling in also," Dumbledore agreed. "But he has not suffered in the same way as Harry. I am hesitant to grant him much leniency in his behaviour."
"Of course he's suffered!" Vernon yelled, shooting a venomous glare at Harry, which was ignored. "He was stalked by reporters because of what Potter did! It's unfair to grant one lenience but not the other."
"I am inclined to disagree with you, Mr. Dursley," Dumbledore's tone was icy. "I will grant him some leniency, but I still expect his behaviour to be upstanding."
He glanced at the silent emerald-eyed boy, who was staring at a photograph upon the wall. It showed the headmaster with four other teachers.
"That photograph shows myself with the four House heads. The students here at Hogwarts are sorted into four houses, teams, if you will. These houses compete against each other to accumulate points through playing sports, extra-curricular events and behaviour. However, bad behaviour can result in the deduction of points," he explained. "I have already taken the liberty of sorting the two of you into your Houses. I hope that you don't mind being separated?"
When he got no response, the aged headmaster continued. "Dudley, I have placed you into Hufflepuff. Their colours are yellow and black, and your Head of House is Professor Sprout. I understand that you are a sixth year student, and therefore able to wear your own clothes, but for identification reasons, I require you to wear this badge. It shows your House."
He handed the large blond boy a shield-shaped badge coloured yellow with a black badger upon it. Dudley looked at it in distaste and pinned it on his jumper.
"Harry," Dumbledore turned to him. "I have placed you into Gryffindor. The colours for this House are red and gold, and your Head is Professor McGonagall. Here is your badge."
Harry took the red badge with a golden lion emblazoned across it, and pinned it onto his worn, oversized black jumper.
"The remaining two Houses are Ravenclaw, headed by Professor Flitwick and supporting the colours blue and black, and Slytherin, headed by Professor Snape and supporting the colours green and silver. Now, here are your timetables," Dumbledore passed them to the two boys. "Your locker keys and numbers, and a map to enable you to move around the school with more ease until you are familiar with your surroundings. I hope you have a nice day, and I'm sorry to rush you, but your classes will be starting in a moment, and I have no doubt you would like to call at your lockers to lighten your loads. Mr. Dursley, if I may ask you to stay for a moment? I have some paperwork for you to sign."
Vernon nodded and turned to his son.
"Have a nice day son, I'm sure you'll fit right in and make lots of new friends," he boomed encouragingly.
Dudley merely nodded and followed his cousin out of the door, shutting it behind him.
"Well, Freak, it looks like it's back to old times," he hissed menacingly. "You have no friends to protect you now. You're mine!"
He brushed past his smaller cousin, banging his muscled shoulder painfully against Harry's, making his way down the corridor. Rubbing his shoulder with his free hand, Harry glanced at his locker number, and then glanced at the map to locate the correct bank. Luck was on his side as he realised that his locker was on the ground floor, in the same corridor as his first lesson, English.
Carefully following his map, Harry soon found himself standing in front of the purple fronted locker bank, inserting his key into number three hundred and ninety. He twisted the small metal key and the door sprung open. Quickly, he shoved his old coat into the small metal box. Shutting the locker, he walked down the hall as the bell rang. Moments later, the hallway was filled with the hustle and bustle of students rushing to class. Standing outside the door to his classroom, Harry watched the chaos around him. It was very much like Stonewall, his old school.
He was unsure as to whether to enter the empty classroom, and so decided to wait outside and see what the other students would do. He didn't have to wait long before a slim girl with half curly, half frizzy brown hair and a tall, gangly boy with red hair arrived.
"I don't know why you insist on practically running here," the boy grumbled. "McGonagall isn't even here yet."
"I like to be punctual, unlike some people," the girl answered, opening the door. "Besides, if we're here first, we'll get the best seats!"
"Let me guess?" the boy's tone was weary. "Right at the front?"
"Excuse me if I actually care about learning something!" the girl snapped waspishly.
Harry silently entered the room, unnoticed by the bickering teens and took a seat at the back. Getting out a battered notebook and an old biro, he settled himself in the chair, placing his bag under the desk.
Soon, other pupils came pouring into the room, all wearing the badges of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw Houses. No one even seemed to notice him as they chatted to their friends and found seats. It was only minutes before the stern-faced professor strode into the room. Setting her books down at the desk, she picked up a clipboard.
"Quiet for the register!" she called. All noise in the room ceased immediately.
Harry could tell that this woman commanded the respect of the pupils, and sat, waiting for his name to be read out, dreading what would happen.
"Yes, miss," he answered, cringing when his classmates turned to stare at the new boy. He hung his head in shame as a girl pointed to his clothes and whispered something to her twin, who started giggling. His cheeks reddening, Harry damned the Dursleys silently for what was probably the thousandth time. They'd thrown away all of his decent clothes before they'd moved up here to Baywater, claiming that he didn't need such a big wardrobe, and leaving him with his old hand-me-down clothes that were far too big, having once belonged to his cousin.
The professor's voice rang through the room.
"Mr. Potter, welcome to Hogwarts," she spoke in precise, clipped tones. "I am Professor McGonagall, your Head of House. I'm sorry that I was unable to meet you in form this morning, but I am aware that you were in a meeting with the Headmaster. I'm so very glad that you are here."
"Thanks," Harry whispered, lowering his gaze from her piercing eyes. Her stare was making him uncomfortable. Finally, she continued the register, and Harry was left alone.
No one bothered him during the double lesson, as they were required to be silent while writing a composition in order for McGonagall to see their level of competence. Harry had trouble thinking of something to write, but after he found inspiration, the words came easily. Writing wasn't his forte, but he was adequate.
He spent the fifteen-minute break making his way through the corridors slowly, weaving around the clusters of students, heading towards the other side of the school to his next class, Science.
Again, he waited outside the classroom to see if there was anyone who entered before the teacher arrived. He knew from Stonewall that there were certain teachers who didn't let students into class before they arrived, and he didn't want to anger someone by entering without permission.
The bell rang, and within a minute Harry was joined by the rest of the sixth year Gryffindors, and what appeared to be the Slytherins, judging by their badges.
Not thirty seconds later, a sallow faced, hook nosed man dressed entirely in black arrived and opened the door for them. Filing silently into the room with the other students, Harry again found a seat at the back of the room, noticing that even the bushy haired girl didn't want to sit near the front in this class. Harry didn't blame her. The teacher didn't look like a pleasant man.
Taking out his biro and paper, Harry waited for class to begin.
Snape started by calling out the register, the list flowing easily from his thin lips until he reached Harry's name.
"Yes sir," Harry answered politely.
"Ah, our new celebrity," Snape sneered. "Don't hope for recognition up here, Potter. I don't care about your fame; you will work hard in this class. I will not make exceptions for you."
Harry cast his eyes down to the desk, not daring to reply. He didn't think he was a celebrity, he hated the fame that had been thrust upon him, and he certainly didn't want to slack. The better his grades, the better the chance he would have at getting a job or into university faster, and so getting him away from the Dursleys.
Snape's lip curled and he continued with the register, the last few names answered with timid 'yes sir's. No one wanted to risk the teacher's wrath now he'd shown himself to be in a bad mood.
"You shall complete a test during this lesson," Snape finally whispered in a deadly tone, the words audible in the silence of the room. "I shall mark these tonight, so I know just how little you imbeciles have remembered from last year. There will be silence."
He passed the test out, and Harry began when ordered. He found the first few questions relatively easy, but stared in horror at most of the questions in the second part of the paper. He didn't know any of this! He didn't even understand some of the terms used. Harry supposed that most of the material on this test had been covered at the end of last year, most of which he'd missed.
He placed a hand on his stomach. It hadn't been his fault that he missed school. He'd spent two and an half months in hospital, recovering, and the remaining two and a half months in and out of hospital and court.
No, no matter what the Dursley's said, none of it was his fault. Though, he did regret ever getting involved with…no. He had to concentrate. The teacher already appeared to hate him, and Harry was determined to do his best on the test.
Carefully, he answered as best he could, trying to guess the right answers by using logic, and the limited scientific knowledge he had.
Finally, the period was over, and Snape collected the tests before dismissing them, glaring hatefully at Harry.
Heading to the library during his free period, Harry pulled down a science book from the shelf, settling down to make notes on all the areas the test covered that he hadn't understood.
He emerged from the library part way through lunch, and found a small table at the back of the cafeteria to sit at. Opening his bag, he pulled out the small, battered sandwich his aunt had made for his lunch. Slowly, he began to eat it. The bread was rather stale, and he was sure the ham was the out-of-date one that was in the fridge yesterday, but it was more than he used to get at his old school. Harry knew she was only giving him lunch because the doctors had told her he needed to eat small amounts throughout the day instead of three large meals due to his injury. To his aunt, this translated as 'give him lunch as well as breakfast and dinner'.
Finishing the sandwich, he washed it down with the bottle of water she'd shoved at him before he left. Shoving the bottle back in his bag, he tossed his sandwich wrapper in the bin behind him, and sat watching the other students.
The bushy haired girl and her red haired friend were sitting with the girl who'd given him directions that morning, and three other boys. Harry suddenly realised the redheads were siblings.
Not too far from him sat an attractive blond who'd been in his science class with a few of his Slytherin friends. They all appeared rich and snotty, their clothes well-made from expensive fabrics. A girl spotted him staring and glared. He looked away.
It was then that he spotted Dudley making his way towards him with two hulking Slytherins following him.
'Great,' Harry thought. 'He's found himself some bullies to boss about.'
Dudley came to a stop in front of him, the two Slytherins lumbering to a halt, crossing their arms and looking menacing.
"All alone Freak?" Dudley smirked. "No friends following you about like adoring fans?"
The two boulders snorted. They didn't appear very bright. Even Dudley's old friends, Piers and Malcolm had more brains than the two of these boys put together.
"I told you that things would go back to normal now we've moved," Dudley sneered. "No one cares about you. Those weirdoes you used to hang around with will have forgotten you already. You're mine."
Thankfully, the bell rang, and Harry was able to escape to the Gryffindor common room for register.
As he sat down on a crimson couch, he was approached by the red head and bushy haired girl.
"Hi!" she smiled. "I'm Hermione Granger."
She stuck out her hand, and Harry shook it tentatively.
"Harry Potter," he replied.
"I know that," Hermione answered.
"Mione, the kid's new," the red head broke in. "He's not used to you knowing everything, don't scare him."
Hermione scowled, but didn't reply.
"I'm Ron, Ron Weasley," the boy stuck his hand out.
Once more, Harry shook it, though he was prevented from answering by McGonagall, who was demanding silence. Soon, Gryffindors' attendance had been called, and they were allowed to leave.
"Come on Ron, Harry!" Hermione ordered cheerfully. "We've got class now!"
"She's already learnt our timetable off by heart," Ron whispered to Harry. "Mind like a sponge, that one. Odd as anything, but a great friend."
As he followed her, Hermione began firing off questions.
"So Harry, where do you come from?"
"Surrey," he answered.
"Oh? Was it nice there?" Hermione asked.
"It was alright," came the reply.
"Why'd you move up here?"
Harry shrugged, feeling uncomfortable.
"Just had to," he said.
"Did one of your parents get a new job or something?" she pressed.
They entered the room, and Harry felt a sinking feeling in his chest. It was an art classroom. It was an art class. Worse, it was an art class with Dudley in it.
He sat down next to Ron and stared at the desk. Hermione had finished her endless questions and was now complaining about Professor Trelawney, the teacher.
"Hello, my dears!" came a floaty voice from the door. "I hope that you're all ready to begin letting the creative juices flow! You'll see that in front of you, I've already placed a sheet of paper and some drawing pencils. I would like you to sketch the candles arranged on my desk. Don't forget to shade!"
With that, the woman sat down at her desk and beamed mysteriously at them all.
Harry felt sick. He couldn't do this. He'd sworn never to draw again. It was his drawings that had gotten him into trouble in the first place. No, he couldn't break his vow.
"Are you alright, Harry?" Ron asked, concerned for the pale boy next to him.
Harry started and looked up with huge, horror stricken eyes.
"I can't," he whispered.
"Is there something wrong, dears?" Trelawney had floated over. "Why aren't you drawing, child?"
"I can't," Harry whispered again.
"Of course you can, dear," Trelawney frowned. "Even if it's not very good, you could still try."
"No, you don't understand!" Harry leapt to his feet. "I can't!"
"You mean won't," Dudley jumped in from the other side of the room. "You can draw, you just choose not to."
Harry had had enough. It was too much for him, and he fled the room.
Running through the corridors, he didn't notice the boy until he crashed into him. Luckily, the boy was larger and stronger than him, and managed to steady them before they fell.
"No running in the corridors!" he snapped. "Free time must be spent in the library or your common room. Or are you meant to be in class?"
Harry looked up to see the attractive blond from his science class. He had pale skin and intense grey eyes that softened in concern upon seeing Harry's panicked face.
"Are you alright?" the boy asked.
"I need to see Professor Dumbledore!" Harry gasped out. "Can you take me to him?"
The boy nodded and began to lead him in the opposite direction. Something clicked in Harry's mind.
"If free periods are supposed to be spent in the commons or library, why were you in the corridor?" he asked.
"I'm a prefect, I was doing my rounds," the boy answered snobbishly. He glanced at Harry sideways. "Aren't you the new kid?"
"Harry Potter," he mumbled.
"I'm Draco Malfoy," the blond answered.
"Nice to meet you," Harry glanced at him. "Sorry for running into you."
"No problem, I can tell you were upset," Draco shrugged. "Here you are, headmaster's office. See you around Harry."
"Bye," Harry replied before knocking on the door.
A/N: Well, what did you think? Don't worry, more will be revealed about Harry's past as the story goes on! Please review!