Summary – Harry left the wizarding world after defeating Voldemort for revenge against his parents real killer. He gets his revenge in unorthodox ways, and then, six years later, he is visited by a pair of angels, who want him to prevent Sam Winchester's fall from grace. SLASH. Sam/Harry
Disclaimer – I do not own Harry Potter or Supernatural. They belong to JK Rowling and Eric Kripke respectively and I am thus not making any money from this.
A/N - Um... Okay, so this is an sort of experimental story, so no whinin'! Lol! First, yes I know, Sam and Harry together, no Dean. Come on, it's not like Jared Padalecki is hard on the eyes now, is it? And erm... yeah, so read, tell me what you think! I've had this one in the wings since before Asmodeus, dunno why I didn't post. Well, yes I do. You'll probably understand what I mean as you read on (or by the title) but well... Please don't report me to the admin here! Yeah? Cool, cheers. So on that note, the warnings are um... slash, lots of slash, lemons (in like... every chapter so far...) and a slightly glamourous view on prostitution. I'm well aware that it is anything but, but well... you'll see. So no flames please. Should you feel the need, forward them to Avalon-Cyrus she forced me to post this! Cheers!
Oh! And before I forget, the timeline for Harry Potter is a little off... He was born in '84 so he's a year younger than Sam.
London. August 2000
Harry reverently stroked the journal in his hands and then placed it in his bag and left the vault behind, letting the goblin lead him back out of the bank after having grabbed some money to pay for anything he may have needed to buy. He nodded his thanks to his goblin guide and then left the bank, grabbing some new robes and clothes before he left Diagon Alley and went back to his room in a hotel not far from the Leaky Cauldron.
It was the middle of the summer before his sixth year and he had left the Dursley's the day before his birthday and had run to the hotel he was currently staying in. He didn't want to be sent to the house that had been his godfathers prison before he had died and so he had run before anyone could have come to collect him.
Closing the door to his room behind him, he walked over to the bed in the room, placing his bags on top of his trunk at the end of the bed and then sitting down on the bed and digging the journal back out of his bag, opening it and starting to read it.
1st December, 1983
I know I should not be writing anything I know down, but Lily and I have just discovered that Lily is pregnant. I know things that will need to be written down so that, should I die before I can explain things to my child, then they will at least have this to lead them towards the truth.
I have spelled this journal so that only someone conceived by me can read it and it will also be sent to my main vault should I die. Hopefully with these precautions, this journal will not fall into the wrong hands.
The reason I sound so paranoid is because I do not work for the Order as many believe. I do not work for the wizarding world either. I work for MI5, though not as a spy as Lily first assumed when I told her the truth. My family has worked in MI5 for years and I was automatically recruited as soon as I graduated from Hogwarts.
My current assignment is to watch over a current dealer, who is thought to be higher up in the chain of crime than we have previously been led to believe. His name is Satch. If you are reading this instead of having been told it by me, then it is certain that Satch is the one to have had me killed. I am not big-headed enough to believe that he would have deemed me important enough to kill me himself. If I have been killed, then there is a high chance that Satch will still be alive whenever you find this. Please be careful. He never knew my real name, at least he doesn't know it whilst I am writing this. Things may change in the future.
Harry frowned as he read the first entry and then flipped through the following entries until he reached one that appeared to have been written on the day of his birth.
31st July, 1984
I have a son. Harry James Potter was born at nine o'clock PM. I am currently writing this whilst sitting in a chair next to Lily's bed. She is fast asleep and Harry is sleeping in the small crib next to the bed.
Harry, you are the only one who will be able to read this and if you are, then I am truly sorry that I have had to leave you. My hope is that you grew up with myself and Lily, happy and spoilt rotten in a such a way that is befitting the heir to the Potter family. However, if you are reading this, then such plans have not come about. I can only hope that whoever you were sent to, they spoilt you and loved you in the way that you deserve.
You are such a beautiful little baby, if you didn't know, then you have your mother's eyes, though yours seem much brighter. You also appear to have her build and hopefully you will have her eyesight. Unfortunately, you have my hair. It drove my mother nuts and I'd imagine it is going to drive your mum nuts as well.
Satch has slowly been growing his empire and now has his fingers in the pockets of most of the metropolitan police. I have been told by my superiors not to make a move and to continue acting as one of his dealers. I cannot help but worry about you and your mother. I should never have dragged you into this world.
We have also been informed by Dumbledore of a prophecy that has been made. He told us of it once it became clear that it might refer to you. If you do not already know it then it is as follows:
'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born as the seventh month dies... Born to those who thrice defied him... And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal... but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die and the hands of the other for neither can live while the other survives... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies.'
Son, I do not know if it will be you. According to Dumbledore, it may also be a young boy called Neville Longbottom. If it does turn out to be you, then I am sorry. I truly am. When you are old enough to understand, I will begin to train you. You will not lose to Voldemort, son. I won't allow it.
"Glad to know someone had faith in me. Thank you Dad. Am I the one it refers to though? If I believe what I have read so far, Voldemort didn't kill my parents. A Muggle did. So, how did Voldemort mark me? How did I get my scar?" Harry muttered, before flipping through the pages, scanning the next couple of entries before one caught his eye.
8th November, 1984
It would seem that bad news seems to come in groups. I have just been informed by my superior that Satch knows my real name and what I was doing. I have been told to place myself in protective custody. Ironically enough, a few hours later, Dumbledore paid us a visit telling us that he had been given word via a spy that Voldemort has heard the prophecy and has set his sights on my family.
I am writing this in our new home, one that Dumbledore offered to us in Godric's Hollow. No one knows that we are here and they have been led to believe that we are somewhere else in the country living under the Fidelius. We chose not to go under the Fidelius as my bosses will not have any way of contacting me unless our secret keeper told them our address, and even to me, that would seem a little strange.
We are now living under glamours as a new family that has moved into the Godrics Hollow. We have been given documents claiming us to be Henry, Elizabeth and little baby George Davies. Should anyone search for us, the Potters never existed in the Muggle world, but the Davies all have official documents going from birth certificates up to current passports and bank accounts.
Harry, we have a lock box in London under the name Davies. In it I have placed some money, not much, but should you find yourself in need of money but unable to get to Gringotts, then go there. I will be placing small amounts in there whenever I get the chance. The key to the lock box should be spellotaped inside the back of this journal.
Harry flipped to the back of the journal and found the key that his father had spoken of. Getting an idea, he pulled his wallet out of his pocket and placed the key inside it, planning on making a visit to Gringotts again in the morning. He once again scanned the following entries, now searching for clues as to who killed his parents and then finally coming to the final entry in the journal.
31st October, 1985
Harry, I am so sorry I failed you. I should have ignored my need to stay in contact with my job and therefore refusing to use the Fidelius. I am sorry that I was not strong enough to protect you. Most of all, I am sorry that it seems I will be leaving you alone at the age of one.
We have just been informed that both Satch and Voldemot have discovered our whereabouts. We have nowhere to run. We were never connected to the floo system as it would not have been safe and we cannot go to hide at a friends house as that will bring one of the two after us to them.
We are trapped in the house that Dumbledore gave to us and I have come to the realisation that I will never get to see you grow up. I believe that you will be such a beautiful boy when you are older. Perhaps beautiful is not the right word to use in describing a young man, but I find it is the only word that gives you justice. You look far more like your mother than you do me.
We have taken off the glamours so that our bodies will be easily identified and we have placed you in your nursery and have set up a silencing ward around it and a small ward to keep people from noticing the door. I am ashamed to admit that we have also drugged you. When you wake, there is a highly likely possibility that you will be an orphan.
Satch will be the first to reach us, this I know. I was never any good in Divination, but my gut tells me that the Muggle Crime Lord will beat the Wizard Dark Lord to the final goal. So if you are reading this and Lily and myself did die tonight, know that it was Satch. Should you wish for vengeance (and I am not one to persuade you against it) then do not go to MI5. You will find that they will have no record of any Potter's working for them and I do not want you to end up under their control.
Use what abilities you have to find him. Concentrate and depend on your strengths and work on improving your weaknesses. As your father, I want you to learn weaponry. Concentrate on blades mainly, but find someone who will teach you how to use different guns. I made one last drop in the lock box earlier this morning. There should be about ten thousand pounds in there. Use it wisely.
Five pages from the back of this book I have put the names and current at the time of writing this numbers of several of my shadier contacts. They will get you any weapons you need, at a cost. They will be high quality but they will be highly illegal. Harry, as long as it keeps you safe, do whatever you have to. I don't care about the law.
A black Mercedes has just pulled up at the end of the street. It seems I was right.
Harry looked at the journal in his hands in shock and then quickly flipped to the back of the journal once more and then counted back the pages until he came across five names and numbers that looked to have been hastily scribbled in. He tore the page out of the journal and then folded it up and placed it in his wallet next to the key.
"Looks like I have plans to make." Harry muttered before grabbing the hotel pen from the bedside table and began to jot down ideas and things he would need to do.
London. March 2001
Harry walked into a busy pub and made his way to the booth farthest away from the door and then sat down and waited. He didn't have to wait long before an older man with greying brown hair and kind baby blue eyes sat down opposite him with a large brown envelope placed on the table in front of him. Harry looked at the man expectantly without saying anything and the man glanced to their side before he pushed the envelope across to the table to Harry, who then picked it up and placed it in the bag he had brought with him.
"Thank you. Did you find everything I needed to know?"
"I did. It wasn't easy, but I'm not the best in the business for no reason."
"Good. The money will be in your account by the end of the day." Harry told him curtly before he stood up form the table and left.
After he had finished reading his fathers journal, he had made plans in regards to Voldemort and Satch. The biggest part of the plan he had put into action was training. He had demanded training from Dumbledore, declaring that either Dumbledore trained him in hand-to-hand combat, weaponry and duelling or he would leave Hogwarts and find someone else who would train him.
Dumbledore had, unsurprisingly acquiesced to his demands, and had pulled Harry from Hogwarts himself. He had, much to his displeasure, been taken to Grimmauld Place to live and had been introduced to his five trainers that would teach him everything he needed to know in order to survive the war. All by the end of August. Harry secretly admitted he was impressed.
He had become very proficient in stealth and had used his skills against his keepers about two months into his training and had managed to contact two of the five people his father had told him about. They, in turn, had led him to two other people that would be bale to get him whatever they couldn't. He had also started to take money from his vault in Gringotts and, after having had it converted into Muggle pounds sterling, he placed it in the lock box his father had left him.
He was now seven months into his training, and having been training for seven days a week and on average thirteen hours a day, he had become quite good. Though he was strongest in knives and, strangely enough, archery, which translated into being a good sniper when referred to guns. Though he still wasn't quite used to the recoil, he was better than he had been when he first started.
His trainer in blades had been surprised at first when Harry had enquired about learning how to use a gun, but after Harry had explained that Voldemort would be least expecting him to use Muggle weapons against him, then the trainer had admitted it was a good idea and had managed to find someone to train him in firearms.
Harry walked back to Grimmauld Place silently in the dark, using the shadows to hide him from anyone that may have been watching and then quietly let himself into the house. He did not open the envelope until after he had closed his bedroom door and had also made a quick call to his temporary bank account to transfer the money in it into the private detectives account.
Finally, he sat down on his bed and pulled out all the photos and documents found in the envelope. Reading through them all he grinned, he had hired the right man clearly. A squib by the name Randolph Williams, who had made a successful career in the Muggle world as a Private Detective, had been recommended to him by the goblins and they had not led him wrong. They deserved a bonus for their tip.
Harry's head shot up when he heard the front door of the house slam open and the sounds of several people running into the house made Harry quickly shove all the documents and papers on a certain Crime Lord under his pillow and grab a book from his bedside table.
He had moved just in time as not seconds after he had opened the book, his door was pushed open and Tonks stumbled in his room, looking quite flustered.
"Harry, Death Eaters are attacking a small village in Wales. It seems to be some sort of initiation rite, so Dumbledore has asked us to bring you along to see how well you have been training recently. So grab your robes and whatever else you think you might need and meet us in the hall. Hurry." Tonks told him and then ran out of the room, presumably to inform the rest of the houses occupants of the attack.
Harry jumped off his bed and grabbed his coat instead of his robes, finding it easier to move about in it. It was actually kind of like a pirates coat, complete with wide sleeves, but he loved it and it allowed easy movement and hid his weapons well. He then strapped his wand to his right arm, a long dagger to his left, placed a glock into the back of his trousers and then picked up his katana and walked out with his hanging from his hand, leaving the sheaf in his room. He wasn't exactly going to need it, was he?
He arrived in the hallway at the same time as Tonks came back from gathering the rest of the occupants of Grimmauld Place. The other wizards and witches gathering in the hall looked at him in shock. Well, they looked at his sword in shock, but no one said anything about his presence, which made him smirk before he hid it.
"Right, we're all here. Everyone touch the portkey, it will take us to just outside the village. Our spy informed us that the raid should have only just begun by the time we get there." Tonks told everyone, and Harry moved over to the pink-haired auror and placed his finger on the piece of rope in her hands. A minute later, he felt the familiar tug behind his navel and prepared himself for his landing, tightening his grip on his sword as he disappeared from Grimmauld Place.
Llechryd, Wales. March 2001
Harry stumbled as the portkey dumped them on the outskirts of a village that would occasionally be lit up by a spell being cast. It appeared they were the first to arrive to confront the Death Eaters, and Harry automatically clenched his hands around the sword as he let go of the rope and followed the rest of the group into the village.
It was carnage, and Harry noticed members of their group looking distressed over the sight of bodies strewn everywhere, many women and children half naked. He caught some members looking at him from the corner of their eyes, and seemed surprised to see that he was emotionless. He had seen much worse in his life. Most of the time when he was asleep and was watching Voldemort's 'play sessions' with his Death Eaters.
Harry growled under his breath and pushed passed the frozen members of the group and dove straight into the fray, using his sword to slice across a surprised Death Eaters chest. It wouldn't kill him, but it would hurt the DE like hell, and would temporarily hinder his movements.
He swung his sword again and managed to hit another DE in the throat, which Harry knew would kill the man. He glanced over at the group he had arrived with and noticed that whilst many had joined the fight and were now stunning the DE's, three of the group, the ones that had looked at him for his reaction, were still watching him in stunned silence.
Harry rolled his eyes and then cursed and dodged a bright green light aimed at his head.
"Could be more original than that, couldn't you?" Harry shouted, grinning manically and stabbing his sword into a DE's chest and then pulling out his gun.
"Harry Potter! My master has plans for you. He believes you would make a most pleasing whore! If we're lucky, he may ev –" Harry had enough of the Death Eater's taunting and fired a bullet into the DE's skull, hiding his surprise at not missing and then turning and shooting another DE.
Finally, the aurors arrived from the ministry, which seemed to be the signal for the Death Eater's to leave and they all apparated out before an anti-apparation ward could be put up. Harry stopped what he was doing and placed the gun back in his waist-band and looked over at where Tonks was limping towards him.
"Dumbledore will be pleased to learn how well you are committing yourself to your studies, Harry." She told him with a wide smile. Harry shot her a tired smile back and looked down at his bloody sword.
"I very much doubt that, but thanks for the praise all the same, Tonks." Harry told her, crouching down to clean the blood from his sword off on the robes of a downed Death Eater, then standing up straight and wincing when a slash across his back, that he hadn't realised he had, was pulled.
"Are you hurt?"
"No, I'm fine. Shall we get back to Grimmauld?" Harry asked her and she nodded and made her way back to where the group of wizards and witches that he had arrived with were gathering.
"You did well, Mr Potter. I will admit to being surprised at how well you did. I am glad to be on your side of this war." A man that Harry vaguely recognised but couldn't remember the name of, told him and Harry shot him a small smile.
"Thank you." Harry muttered, not completely used to the praise he was being given. He then thought back to what the Death Eater had told him and a grin bloomed on his face. Use his talents indeed.
Riddle Manor, Little Hangleton. 3rd May 2002.
At the end of what should have been Harry's seventh and final year at Hogwarts, Harry was slowly creeping through the halls of Voldemort's manor, searching for the elusive Dark Lord.
He snuck through the dark and dingy halls, ducking into shadows occasionally when he heard an approaching Death Eater and sometimes killing them if they were alone. As he walked through the halls, leaving a steady trail of carnage and death behind, he finally came to a large set of double doors and winced when his scar gave an angry twinge.
Looking down both sides of the corridor, Harry straightened his back, tightened his grip on his sword and then pushed the doors open dramatically and walked in. Inside, Voldemort stood in front of five other Death Eaters, and all had turned to look at him when he had walked in.
"Harry Potter!" Voldemort hissed and Harry nodded his head and threw him a cheerful grin which completely belied what he was feeling inside. Inside he was a bundle of nerves and anxiety.
"That's me. So, I've come to the decision that I'm fed up of this war and I've come to end it. I have other things to do than hide from you in a dingy house and time is running out with regards to some of those things."
"And what could be more important than ridding the Wizarding World of me, Mr Potter?" Voldemort asked, walking past the stunned Death Eaters to stand just in front of Harry, throwing his bloody sword a curious glance.
"Oh? Not against me? Who else could you possibly wish to seek revenge for?" Voldemort asked him and Harry rolled his eyes and sighed, wondering why Voldemort seemed so chatty at the moment.
"I know you didn't kill my parents, Voldemort. I have no idea how I got this scar, but I do know that you had no hand in my parents deaths."
"How did you find that out? I was the only one to know, everyone assumed that I had killed the Potter's before I made my attempt on your life."
"But you didn't, did you? The wizards didn't bother to check the bodies. If they had, they would have found the bullet wounds in my parents chests. So, tell me. How did I get the scar? I'm truly dying to know."
"I arrived at the house that night to find your father's body strewn on the floor at the bottom of the stairs. At the top, your mother was lying. I would have left then, assuming you were nowhere to be found, when the ward surrounding your nursery finally faded completely and my interest was piqued. Why would they hide a nursery if there was no one inside? Imagine my joy when I found out that you had been left all alone and defenceless in there."
"So you tried to kill me and it failed?"
"How did it fail if it hadn't been my mother's sacrifice? And why did you not tell me whenever we had a confrontation?"
"I never told you that I did kill your parents either. Everyone just assumed I had in order to get to you. As for how the spell failed, that I do not know the answer to." Voldemort admitted with a small shrug of his shoulders, even as he fingered his wand in his hand.
"Huh, didn't think you would know, but I figured I would ask. So then, shall we get on with it?" Harry asked him with a bright smile, glancing at the wary Death Eater's out of the corner of his eyes then back at Voldemort when the man in front of him shifted and pointed his wand at him.
Harry titled his head to the side, much to the confusion of Voldemort, and then let his sword drop from his grasp and instead pulled out his gun, which made Voldemort sneer at him.
"What will that do?" Voldemort asked him imperiously and Harry looked at the gun in his hands and then grinned before looking back up at Voldemort.
"Oh, you know, this and that. Wanna demonstration?" Harry asked, lifting the gun and aiming it at one of the DE's heads. Voldemort looked at him speculatively and then, much to Harry's surprise, nodded.
"Go ahead. They are not that important. Please, show me the wonders of your Muggle toy." Voldemort said with a sneer and Harry chuckled before quickly spinning his arm to face Voldemort and fired twice into his skull.
"Moron. You know, that was disappointingly anti-climatic, wasn't it?" Harry asked the stunned Death Eaters, before firing another three bullets into Voldemort's chest and then turning to face the Death Eaters.
He had managed to shoot two of the Death Eaters before they finally snapped out of the fact that their master had just been killed and started to fire curses back at him. Harry swore and dodged the third killing curse sent his way, shooting at the DE's and managing to hit one in the shoulder before having to duck another curse.
"Shit. Maybe I should have told the Order of my plans." Harry muttered, running to the doors of the room and then throwing himself out of them, managing to close one just as a DE ran into it and snickering at the loud thud it made. Harry then picked himself off the ground and cursed as he realised he had left his sword in the other room. "Sorry Geoff, but sometimes people fall behind.... and swords." Harry muttered as he ran down the corridor, pulling out his dagger with his other hand, breathing heavily and ducking another curse sent his way. "Crap, they got out."
Harry managed to flee down a corner, but cursed mentally when he realised that he had just taken the wrong turning and thus taking him further from the way out.
"God dammit! Give me a break! Can you at least safely lead me another way out of this god forsaken place. And yes, I do realise that I am talking a being who quite possibly doesn't exist, and if he does exist then clearly abandoned me years ago." Harry muttered, before looking up in shock when a door at the end of the corridor was slammed open.
Harry ran into the room and slammed the door shut behind him, leaning against it and trying to control his breathing, holding his breath when he heard the other three Death Eaters run past the room he was in. Harry pushed himself off the door and then glanced over at window in front of him in shock.
"You have got to be kidding me." Harry muttered, slowly walking over to the window that overlooked the gate leading off the grounds. The open window that faced the gate. "Oh I take it all back. Thank you God." Harry muttered and then carefully climbed out of the window and let himself drop the rest of the way to the ground.
He then looked around him for anyone that may be outside, but clearly if there had been any other Death Eaters in the house, none had been warned of his arrival... or of their leader's demise. "Please keep up the good work." Harry mumbled with a glance upwards and then, after looking to either side, he made a dash for the gates.
He heard a shout be sounded behind him, but just managed to get through the gates and past the wards in time to avoid the curses that had been thrown at him. He then jauntily waved at the Death Eaters as he apparated away, landing on his knees in front of Grimmauld Place.
"Oh, I will never, ever deny your existence ever again. Just... think you can get me out of the on coming interrogation?" Harry asked, then looked at the front door when it was slammed open and Molly Weasley was standing in the doorway looking furious. "Yeah, didn't think so. I appreciate the effort though."
"Harry James Potter! Where have you been? Do you know how worried we've been?" Molly demanded and Harry flinched but walked into the house when she stepped out of the way of the door.
"I need to get clean." Harry muttered, looking down at his slightly bloody clothing, which brought Molly's attention to his clothes and she shrieked, grabbing Harry's arm and dragging him into the kitchen, where half the Order seemed to be sitting. Harry grunted as he was shoved into a chair and the members in the room all looked at him.
"Where have you been?" Tonks asked, and Harry looked at her and rolled his eyes. He shifted and pulled out his gun and placed it on the table, then placed his knife, daggers and wand on the table.
"I lost Geoff. I loved that sword." Harry grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest grumpily, whilst Shaklebolt snorted and looked at him incredulously.
"You named your sword Geoff?"
"Yeah? Why not? He looked like a Geoff. This gun is called Dru, the two daggers are Lily and Rose, and the knife is called Mason. It looks like a Mason."
"That is very interesting Mr Potter. But it does not tell us where you have been? Do you not understand the trouble you could have gotten into? You could have gotten killed." Professor McGonagall demanded and Harry rolled his eyes and slumped into his chair.
"You do realise that I am seventeen and therefore, under your laws, a legal adult. Right? Therefore, you can't actually tell me what I can and can't do."
"Mr Potter! We are doing this for your own safety."
"Well, I don't need your protection anymore. I went to Little Hangleton. Voldemort is dead. And I'm leaving. I'll be gone by tomorrow. Lovely doing business with you." Harry told them, standing up from the table in their shocked silence and walking to the door.
"What is your proof that You Know Who is dead?"
"I'm still alive. And it's Voldemort, grow a pair and use it." Harry told them before he left the room and the slowly rising whispers, behind.
Harry shoved his clothes into his duffle bag and then opened his trunk and pulled out a smaller trunk that contained all of his weapons that he had managed to accumulate in the last two years and shrank it before putting it in his bag before he zipped the bag up and grabbed his coat from the back of the chair. He was pulling it on just as his door swung open and Hermione, Ron and Ginny all piled in, making him raise an eyebrow at them all and pull his coat on the rest of the day.
"Harry! You cannot leave! Where will you go? Why do you have to leave in the first place? If You Know Who really is dead, then you can finish your schooling!" Hermione told him, whilst Ginny and Ron both nodded.
"Yeah, and we can see if we can have a relationship." Ginny said, making Harry gape at her. He went to say something but Ron picked up the pace.
"Yeah! You and Ginny will finally be able to be together and we really will be brothers!" Ron exclaimed excitedly and Harry sighed and shook his head, making his hair fly around his face.
"I'm leaving. I don't know where I will be staying, but it will be somewhere in the Muggle world. I'm leaving the wizarding world behind." Harry told them, picking up his bag and moving to stand in front of them.
"What? You can't leave! What about me?" Ginny cried, actually stomping her foot and narrowing her eyes at him. Harry looked at her and then looked heavenwards.
"Seriously? This? Thanks." Harry grumbled, ignoring the strange looks Hermione was shooting him. "Look Ginny. It would have never worked between us. I'm sorry."
"Why not! We're perfect together!"
"Really? How do you know that? Do you even know me? At all? I mean me, not what you read in the papers and magazines." Harry asked her, placing his bag and the floor to cross his arms over his chest.
"I... I know your favourite colour is red! And... and you love flying and your favourite thing to do is play quidditch!" Ginny said, looking smug and Harry shook his head and dropped his hands to his side.
"You don't know anything about me Ginny. My favourite colour is blue, and yeah, I like flying, but my favourite thing isn't playing quidditch. I've changed since you last saw me last year. My favourite thing to do now is knives. I love knives and to a certain extent swords. I love fighting and I love firearms. I haven't honestly thought about quidditch now for over a year. Now, if you don't mind, I've got to leave." Harry said, picking his bag back up and pushing past them.
"Wait! Why? Why are you leaving?" Hermione shouted after him, running to catch up with him on the stairs.
"I have something that needs to be done. Something my dad started and that I need to end."
"What? And why do you have to leave the wizarding world to do this?"
"I don't. I want to however. Look, I'm sorry, I really am. But I don't belong here. You wanna know how I killed Voldemort? I shot him. No spells, nothing magical. I just... I don't belong in this world. I don't think I ever have. I've killed Voldemort for you all, now you can leave me alone and let me live my life how I want to."
"And how's that? You don't have any qualifications! How are you going to get a job? Do you even exist in the Muggle world?" Hermione demanded and Harry shot her a funny look.
"Of course I do Hermione. As for what I'm going to do. I'm going to go to a college and get my GCSE's and perhaps my A-Levels there, and in the mean time I'm going to find a small job somewhere near to where I decide to live. Just let me go Hermione. You made your place in this world but I never got that chance, so I'm leaving before they can either throw me in prison or turn me into something I'm not." Harry told her bluntly and then jogged the rest of the way down the stairs and straight to the door. "I'll contact you with my address and other details once I'm settled if you still want to stay in touch. Bye Hermione, Ron, Ginny."
Ron, Hermione and Ginny all watched as the door closed behind their friend in a shocked silence, only snapping out of it when the kitchen door opened and Molly came out.
"Did I just hear someone go out the door?"
"Yeah. Harry. He left."
London. 6th May 2002
Harry hadn't actually moved all that far away from Grimmauld Place, only nearer to London city centre. He had found an apartment in Bethnal Green that he had paid for with money from his accounts in Gringotts, and had been told that it would take about five days for the sale to go through, so in the mean time, he was staying in a hotel.
He had got a mobile phone set up and had opened a bank account, which he had put money from his vault in Gringotts, though he still placed some money in the lock box, just in case he should need it. By this time, he had about seventy thousand pounds in the lock box, and he had no intention of using any of it yet.
However, things don't always work out as planned and Harry was reading a letter from Gringotts that made him realise that he may have to use the money in the lock box soon.
Our esteemed Minister has been informed of your decision to leave the wizarding world and, as per laws set in 1787 for the protection of our world, your vaults will be sealed by the end of the day.
You will not be able to get money from the vaults and they will be sealed until you come back to live in the wizarding world, or descendants of yourself are introduced to the wizarding world.
We apologise for the way the laws have been written and your loss.
Potter Vaults Manager
Gringotts Bank of Magical Britain.
"Well shit." Harry cursed, before he looked at his watch and then grabbed his wallet, phone, coat, his wand, which he shoved in his back pocket and his knife, which he strapped to his right arm. Then he grabbed the key card and placed it in his pocket before leaving his room.
He made his way to Charring Cross road and the Leaky Cauldron and then, smoothing his fringe over his scar, made his way through the crowded pub and then tapped the bricks to get access to Diagon Alley. He then made his way through the crowded street, noticing that the death of Voldemort hadn't seemed to have been made public yet, and walked through the doors of Gringotts.
Walking over to a teller, he waited for the man in front of him to finish his business then stepped forward and smiled at the goblin, which shocked the being in front of him.
"Hi, I'd like to see Griphook please." Harry asked in what he hoped was his politest voice, though he was beginning to get anxious just being there.
"Harry Potter." Harry whispered, glancing nervously to the side and then back to the goblin, who grinned at him and then pressed something on his desk.
Five minutes of anxious waiting later and Griphook walked over to them, nodding to the goblin and then looking at Harry.
"If you'd like to follow me." Griphook told him and Harry nodded and followed the goblin to an office just off the main hall. "Please, take a seat." Harry nodded and then sat down in the seat opposite Griphook, then looked at his hands.
"It's about the letter you just sent me." Harry finally admitted, placing the letter on the desk for Griphook to read.
"Ah, Mr Potter, I am afraid there is nothing I can do about this. It is out of my hands and this is one ministry law that we at Gringotts must adhere to."
"No, I get that, I just came to check that any payments I may have made will still go through. More importantly, the money to purchase an apartment. The sale has been made, but I don't know if the money has gone through yet." Harry said, fidgeting in his seat and looking at Griphook.
"I assume you are referring to the money to be transferred to Barrett Homes?"
"Yeah, that would be the one."
"Then you are quite alright. The money went out this morning, about an hour before Fudge came in demanding the closure of your vaults."
"Right. If... if I don't have kids... what happens to the money then?" Harry asked him curiously.
"The vaults will stay sealed until someone comes along and they have any connections to you."
"Right. What about the Black family vaults?"
"They are yours by right. They will be merged with the Potter family vaults."
"No, don't do that. Erm... oh God I can't believe I'm going to say this. Give them to Draco Malfoy. Make him the new Lord Black."
"Are you sure of this decision?"
"No? Ah crap. What about Nymphadora Tonks instead. Can she get it?"
"You have until five o'clock this evening until you are no longer thought of as Lord Black. You will have to reinstate Miss Tonks as a member of the Black family and then you can give her the vaults and rights as the Black family head."
"Okay. How do I do that then?"
"I will get the papers you will need to sign. Just please stay here for a minute Mr Potter." Griphook told him and then he walked out of the office.
"Oh this is all just completely fucked up." Harry muttered to himself, then looked upwards. "You can be a dick sometimes, you know that, right?"
Half an hour later and Harry had managed to sign over all rights to the Black vaults to Nymphadora Tonks, who would soon be receiving a letter informing her of her new social status. With that done, Harry had gone down to the main family vault one last time and had taken out his father's journal, invisibility cloak and had filled a bag with some galleons, which he had then had converted into Muggle currency.
Harry made his way back to his hotel room despondently, frowning when his phone vibrated signalling a message. Pulling it out, he read the message and then grinned. Looked like things might actually going well for once.
Bethnal Green. 18th May 2002
Harry grinned as he pulled on some skinny jeans and a tight black sweater , then scruffed up his hair and grabbed his phone, wallet and anything else he would need, then left to go to the hotel he would meet his first client.
He had found a madam the week previously who had been interested in expanding her business to include male escorts. She had taken one look at Harry and had hired him, telling him he would have to start off at the bottom, on eight pounds an hour, thirty pounds of which would go to her. Harry agreed, and soon Harry Potter disappeared from all except to those who already knew him, and the male escort, Bambi came onto the scene.
Which brought Harry to where he was right now, standing, somewhat nervously, in front of a door in the hotel and trying to convince himself to knock on it. His madam had been ecstatic to find out that he was willing to 'service' both males and females, which widened her clientele even more. So his first client was a business man, an apparently very well known business man in the Muggle world. Perhaps he should start reading Muggle newspapers to find out how well known his clients are.
He had, admittedly, lied about his age, not that his madam would have cared all that much. He had gone to one of his new contacts about getting ID for himself, stating that he was actually twenty years old as opposed to seventeen, which would have been a bit illegal (well, more illegal than selling his body for sex).
The sale for his apartment had successfully gone through about a day later than they had told him it would, so he had somewhere to live, he had bought a new mobile phone on contract for his clients, and he had a job, so his life was picking up. And he was just that little bit closer to getting to Satch.
Harry took a deep breath, patted his pockets down to check that he had everything he would need and then knocked on the door, smiling widely to hide his nerves when the door opened and the man let him in.
"Here goes." Harry muttered and walked past the man into the opulent hotel room, trying not to fidget and give away how nervous he actually was.
London. 25th January, 2006
"Seriously, four years? Four frickin' years? Cuttin' it fine, aren't you?" Harry muttered looking at the ceiling. He had just received a message from his madam making an appointment with a man going by the name Jonathan Satchell. Which made Harry grin maniacally, considering that was the name of Satch. "Four frickin' years." Harry muttered, pulling on the leather trousers that Satch had requested, though Harry had no idea why, nor did he particularly want to know.
After he had gotten ready, he grabbed everything he would need, and then picked up the spare wand he had bought just for this purpose. He then took a deep breath and left his apartment, the very same one he had bought all those years ago.
He still placed the money he made into a lock box, though a different one than the one his father had opened. It was apparently something most call girls and male escorts used in order to avoid having to pay taxes, and of course Harry thought that to be an excellent idea and did the same.
He had also managed to become one of the best paid and most sought after male escorts in London. He charged on average three hundred an hour, unless the client wanted something extra, then he charged by what they wanted. He had also become quite proficient in talking about operas, even if he only ever saw the first half of any opera, play, or concert that he had been to see. And if anyone ever asked him and he was truthful, he loved his job. And he now, finally, got the opportunity to get close to Satch. He had every intention of finishing it tonight.
Walking calmly into the hotel lobby, smiling at the doorman kindly and then made his way to the front desk.
"Hello, how may I help?" The receptionist asked, looking him up and down and then smiling widely, fluttering her eyelashes. Harry grinned at her seductively and leant against the counter.
"Hi, I'd like a room for the night please." Harry asked, pulling out his wallet and then looking at her expectantly.
"Oh! Of course. A single?"
"That would be fine."
"Right, well room 515 is available at a hundred and seventy a night." She told him as she tapped on the keyboard.
"That will be fine."
"Okay then sir, will you be paying cash or card?"
"Cash." Harry told her, taking out the right amount and then adding an extra twenty before he passed it over to her. She counted the money and threw him a wide smile before handing him the key to the room, which Harry placed in his coat pocket. "Thank you. What time to you get off work?"
"Oh! Erm... eleven." She told him shyly and Harry smiled widely at her, almost predatorily.
"Then you should know, my door will be open at about that time. Perhaps we will see each other later." Harry told her and then turned around and walked to the stairs, grinning when he heard the excited whispers of the two behind the desk. He had just managed to solidify his alibi.
Harry walked down the corridor towards the room Satch had stated he would be in, which was two floors above his own, and then stopped in front of the door. He messed his hair up and smoothed his shirt down before knocking on it.
"Ah, you must be Bambi." The man who opened the door said with a smirk, and Harry smiled at him widely, thanking his youth for making him look more innocent than he actually was.
"Of course." Harry said with a smile, entering the hotel room, brushing against the elder man as he passed. He had guessed that Satch must have been in his late sixties, but clearly running a crime business was good for physique as Harry certainly wasn't going to sneer at the man in front of him.
"Now, I don't have a lot of time, so just go into the bedroom and wait for me there." Satch told him and Harry turned to the bedroom silently, raising an eyebrow as he glanced at the ceiling.
"Impatient isn't he?" Harry muttered as he entered the bedroom of the suite and shucked off his coat and unbuttoned his shirt, placing both on the chair in the room. He had no idea if Satch actually wanted him to be naked or not, so he just unbuttoned his trousers but kept them on, then he pulled out his saving grace, a small blue pill and swallowed it before he sat back on the bed and waited for Satch to come back in.
Harry was, admittedly, a little nervous that Satch had somehow managed to find out his real name and who his father was, and that that was why Satch was making him wait in the bedroom. Harry nibbled on his lip, which was something he normally did to make his bottom lip more red and plump, but this time was just due to nerves. He looked up when Satch entered the room and relaxed slightly when the older man just grinned at him and then began to take his own clothes off.
Naked, Satch then sat on the bed next to Harry, and placed a hand over Harry's stomach, rubbing it and then trailing it downwards to rest just above Harry's crotch. The Viagra by this time, had started to kick in, which Harry could only be grateful for as he certainly wasn't feeling turned on. He stayed still as Satch moved to sit over him and began to pull the trousers off of him and then threw them onto the floor.
Satch then sat back and motioned for Harry to sit on his lap. Harry complied and moved so that their erections brushed against one another, faking a moan of pleasure then running his hands down Satch's chest, stopping just before he touched his penis.
Satch ran his hands down Harry's back and chuckled when he reached Harry's behind and felt the base of the butt plug Harry had been required to wear for this 'meeting'. He had found, over the years, that some clients preferred if he came ready prepared and some preferred to prepare him themselves. Then there was the minute few that preferred hardly any preparation at all, those ones Harry hated.
"You came prepared." Satch muttered, twisting the plug and making Harry gasp, this time not faked though it was more a shock of surprise than of pleasure, but he didn't particularly care how Satch viewed it.
"You did ask." Harry muttered, leaning forwards the press a kiss to the hollow of Satch's neck, forcing himself not to wrinkle his nose in displeasure and then forcing himself to moan when Satch removed the butt plug and moved him to replace it with something a little larger.
"You're so tight." Satch moaned and Harry rolled his eyes and then moaned loudly as Satch thrust into him. Pushing himself up so that he was sitting up straight. He looked down at Satch and then nibbled his lip and closed his eyes, Satch grunted and grabbed his thighs, holding him down even as Harry slowly reached to his arm and pulled out his wand. "What--?"
"Night, night Satch." Harry whispered, pointing his wand at the shocked man underneath him and grinning. "Avada Kedavra." With a shock of green light, Satch was no more and Harry climbed off of the man and walked over to his clothes, pulling them on and making sure that he left nothing behind that belonged to him.
"Oh what? You knew this is what I was going to do. So I've sinned, so what? Hello! I'm a damn prostitute! Hardly something pious now, is it?" Harry grouched as he leant over the bed to delicately pull the condom off of Satch and then concentrated and vanished it from his hands. "Besides, I use magic, which is completely against your little followers religion anyways."
Harry opened Satch's wallet and took out the money for his services, amusingly enough not taking any more than what he had told Satch he would charge, and then left the hotel room, going to the stairs and to the floor he was staying in. He opened his hotel room and walked over to the bed in the room, sinking down on it.
Fifteen minutes later, the realisation of what he had just done finally set in and he began to laugh hysterically. He had finally done what he had set out to do all those years ago. He looked at the time and noticed that it was half past ten. Perhaps he would be getting a visitor soon. He hoped so, because the Viagra was not going to let him forget that he had taken it.
Bethnal Green. 31st January, 2006
Harry paced the floor of his living room and tugged on his hair slightly, turning in his spot and walking to the other side of the room. He glanced at his phone lying innocently on the coffee table and then groaned and spun around again to walk in the opposite direction.
"Okay, fine. I'm sorry alright. I tried to quit and find a more respectable job but well, I dropped out of conventional Muggle schooling at the age of eleven and out of wizarding schooling at sixteen. I am completely unemployable and the only thing I'm trained for is spreading my legs or killing people. So really, I ask you, what is the lesser of two evils? Exactly." Harry muttered, wondering if anyone actually thought it odd that he had one sided conversations with God.
Harry tugged at his hair once more and then walked over to the coffee table and picked up his phone, dialling a number and holding it to his ear.
"Jayne? Yeah, I'll take that job. He wants chains and no prep right? Okay, tell him I'm gonna have to charge him double if he wants that. Alright? Good. Thanks. Will he be coming here or... The Hilton? Swanky. Right, tell him he needs to text me the room number on the night. Okay then, Thursday at eight. Got it. Will he want me for the whole night or what? Alright then. Yeah, ring me if you get any more appointments. Thanks."
Harry hung up and threw his phone down onto the couch before groaning and sitting down on the coffee table, placing his head into his hands. "Yeah, I know. I'm a whore. Well, guess what? I like it. Why do I even speak to you? You've helped me once in all the years I've been alive. And that could have just been a coincidence. I damn freaky coincidence, but one all the same. If you had intervened in my life from the beginning, then maybe I wouldn't have reached this point of my life. Sorry alright? But this is what I am. You abandoned me and so I made my own way in life."
Bethnal Green. 31st May, 2008
Harry opened the door to his apartment, humming lightly after having been to his lockbox to deposit his recent earnings. He threw his bag into his bedroom as he passed and then walked into the living room, stopping in shock when he noticed two men standing there. The smaller of the two wearing a trench coat and looking around the room curiously, whilst the taller man just stood there stoically, sneering when he noticed Harry standing in the doorway.
"What the hell--? Who--? Why are you here? How did you get in?" Harry demanded, stepping forwards, but trying not to look too threatening, seeing as there were two of them, and they were both taller than him.
"Harry Potter, we have come to ask you a favour." The shorter one stated, stepping forwards to stand in front of Harry.
"Right. And you couldn't have rang me instead? I do have two phones for you to choose from. And if you want that kind of favour, then you have to make an appointment through Jayne Harwick. Sorry." Harry told them, shifting slightly to show his discomfort, which was actually mirrored on the shorter's face.
"We have come to ask a favour of you but not like that." The taller, coloured man stated and Harry looked at him curiously.
"Right... Can I ask your names? You know, seeing as you know my name and all. I feel at a disadvantage." Harry told them moving to lean against the doorframe.
"I am Uriel and he is called Castiel. We are here due to your skills and we have come to ask that you join our side to prevent a catastrophe from occurring."
"Okay... what is this catastrophe?"
"We have heard your conversations with Our Lord and Father. We believe you will be able to do the job we have come to ask of you." Castiel told him and Harry strangely found himself liking Castiel more than Uriel, who just freaked him out a little.
"And what is it you wish to ask me to do?" Harry asked them, well he more asked Castiel, but Uriel was the one to answer all the same.
"We know that you feel guilty over what you do and that you can see no way of getting out. We have come to offer you a way out."
"Which is? And how do you know this?"
"We are angels of the Lord. The very Lord you speak to on a regular basis. We have been sent to you to give you an alternative." Castiel told him smoothly and Harry looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
"Oh? Angels? Really? I realise that this may be kinda tough, but see where I'm coming from here, how can I believe you? Is there anyway you can prove it to me? Without killing or harming me in anyway." Harry added hastily, eyeing Uriel cautiously.
"We know everything about you, Harry Potter, also known as Bambi to his madam and clients. We know that you stayed in touch with Hermione Granger until she found out about your real job and broke off contact with you two years ago. We also know that you took this job so that you could info and kill your parents murderer, which you also succeeded in two years ago. You defeated Voldemort and left the wizarding world behind when you were seventeen. And finally, Voldemort could not kill you when you were one because God did not feel it was your time to go." Castiel told him, making Harry gape at him in shock.
"Okay... so you're angels. He didn't feel it was time for me to go? So... so he stopped my death?" Harry asked weakly, looking at Castiel curiously.
"He made the curse fail, he did not stop you from dying. He knew that you would be important should you be able to live, so he prevented your death." Uriel told him bluntly and Harry nodded slowly and then raised a hand to run it through his hair.
"Right. So he was listening when I spoke to him? Every time?"
"God listens whenever one of his children speaks. You just happened to speak to him more often than someone normally does. And he knows that you feel some guilt over what you do, but you still do not regret the path your life has taken. Which is why you were chosen for this job." Uriel told him and Harry exhaled in exasperation.
"What job? You keep mentioning a job, but you have yet to tell me what it is." Harry pointed out, annoyed at the two beings in front of him.
"We want you to go to America to prevent someone from falling from grace."
"Prevent someone from falling from grace? As in, stop it? I'm a whore! I make people fall from grace! It is in my best interest to encourage people to break the law and solicit my services! And you want me to stop someone from falling from grace. And what does that mean exactly? I mean, if you read the Bible, that could be anything from doing my job to sleeping with a damned demon. So, tell me, how am I to stop someone falling?"
"You will be given forgiveness and you will be paid if you go to America and use any means necessary to prevent one Samuel Winchester from associating with demons." Castiel told him and Harry just gaped at him.
"Heaven is going to pay me to do anything to prevent this guy from associating with demons? Anything? Even, killing and seducing?"
"We do not want you to kill Samuel but you can seduce him if you deem it necessary. And yes, we will pay you whatever you ask. We do not know what you normally charge."
"Oh this is surreal. I'm being commissioned by angels. Let me tell you, that isn't normal for a prostitute. Normally your little believers look down on us. I was thrown out of a church once when they discovered what I did! Not very forgiving." Harry grumbled and Uriel narrowed his eyes at him and then looked at Castiel.
"Will you take the job?"
"Fine, but you pay me twelve hundred pounds a day, for each day that I am with Samuel Winchester. You pay off my mortgage and you let me collect some things that I will need to take with me. Oh! And you pay for the plane ticket." Harry stated and Uriel nodded before disappearing. "He always do that?"
"He has gone to arrange things for our deal. You will have no need for a plane ticket as we will take you to the town that Sam is currently staying in. We will take you to America in two days time, before which, I will teach you everything I know about demons and how to stop them, kill them, and exorcise them, and also some things about angels, including how to call me should you need me." Castiel told him and Harry nodded again, then pushed himself off of the doorframe and walked over to the couch, sitting down on it, whilst pulling out his phone.
"Take a seat if you want. I just need to ring my madam and tell her that I will no longer be available to her services, which will be a hell of a lot harder than it sounds. She isn't going to let her best prostitute get away easily." Harry muttered, dialling the number and then looking at Castiel in shock when he took the phone from Harry. "What—?"
"I will deal with your... madam. Whilst I am gone, you can make any arrangements you will need to make."
"Right. Thank you, Castiel."
"I am only doing what I was told to do." Castiel told him and Harry just shrugged and grinned at him, shaking his head in bemusement when Castiel disappeared from the room.
"My life is weird. I kinda feel sorry for this Sam Winchester."
A/N – So... yet another SPN/HP story for you to enjoy. This one is going to be Sam/Harry, which should bring about an interesting conversation if/when Sam finds out that Harry was paid to stick with Sam. Lol! As you could probably guess, the relationship between Sam and Harry will be a hell of a lot quicker in the making than it was in the Reaper 'Verse.
So tell me what you think of this idea, and the um... the confessions in the title is referring to Harry's conversations with God, if anyone wondered or hadn't guessed. So yeah... new story! Any good?