Summary: Harry ends up being thrown out of the Dursleys household. Because of a Death Eater he gets sent back in time. See how his life will turn out when he acquires an unusual guardian, crazy friends and a feared ability. Necromancer!Harry. Slash
Pairings: Harry/multi, but the main pairings are HPLV and HPLM. Others are still undecided.
Disclaimer: don't own Harry Potter or any canon characters. The characters you don't recognize are probably mine as well as the plot.
Chapter 1. Poetic Tragedy
A year passed since the memorable evening when Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall doomed young Harry Potter to living with a human farmhouse. A horse, a walrus and a colourful beach ball, which was slowly but steadily becoming more like a pig, hated their unexpected relative with passion surpassing even that of Voldemort.
Luckily, Harry was still just a baby and physically unable to do the chores he would otherwise be made to do. Still, the main reason why the extent of the neglect and abuse he had to experience wasn't as big as it could be was because of the strange things happenings everywhere around the child.
Of course, Petunia and, consequently, her husband Vernon knew about the wretched boy's magic and what it entailed. The woman, after all, had to grow up with her freakish sister, and, no matter how much she hated them, she was pretty used to the frequent displays of accidental magic. What she wasn't used to, however, was the sight of dead and rotting creatures roaming around the house.
Even with their general disgust and ignorance regarding the Wizarding world, the Dursleys knew that it wasn't normal even for them.
It wasn't normal to wake up to the chirping sounds of the previously dead parrot, which had been bought to their lovely Dudders on a whim and which everyone had been forgetting to feed. It wasn't normal to have half-rotten mice and other rodents running around the house on their little feet, making small sounds day and night and disturbing whatever guests the Durseys wanted to invite. It wasn't normal to see their garden dead and completely grey-coloured one day, only to find it filled with blooming flowers the next morning. It wasn't normal to feel afraid, no, terrified, of a small child, who could barely walk on his two feet and had a long road ahead of him to reach the table.
Wasn't it ironic that the family that had always strived for normal life could never have it? Now, all their neighbours avoided the Dursleys like plague. Wherever the family went, people whispered behind their backs about the strange occurrences in the household. Petunia couldn't trade gossip with her so-called 'friends', as they were offended and insulted at not being invited to her house anymore. Vernon's job hung by a thread, because he, too, couldn't hold proper dinner parties with investors and all kinds of influent people.
Out of the inhabitants of the house only Dudley was lucky enough to more or less avoid all this social assault and be able to lead the life of a happy toddler. Although he was constantly frightened by dead animals and insects. They had taken a great dislike towards him and were the cause of numerous accidents, during some of which he was seriously hurt.
All in all, the life of the family changed drastically in such a short span of time, going from peaceful and quiet to chaotic and hazardous. No one knew when it would all stop, but the patience of one Vernon Dursley was on the verge of ending.
"I'm sorry, Vernon, old friend, but I have to fire you." The director's voice was apologetic and his eyes were staring at the stunned man in front of him with something akin to pity.
"B-but-" Vernon spluttered, unable to utter a single coherent word.
"There are certain rumours," the man behind the desk said and shook his head. It was truly a shame that he had to fire one of his best workers, but it had to be done. "Some of them are quite entertaining. And amusing. However, when I have to hear about people not wanting to conduct business with a dabbling in witchcraft demon's spawn, it's not something I can easily ignore, you know."
"A demon's spawn!"
"-When so many people talk about the matter," the director looked up piercingly to meet Vernon's eyes. "One has to wonder if there is a seed of truth to these rumours, after all."
"Y-you believe this gossip more than me?" Vernon's tiny eyes were wide with disbelief. He couldn't believe what he was hearing from one of his childhood friends. "We have known each other for years!"
The director sighed and rubbed his temples. He had known it wouldn't be easy. "Our company works with people, Vernon. And if they don't want you here, I'm sorry to say it, but you are of no use to us."
Disbelief changed to anger and Vernon could feel his face heating up. He knew who was responsible for this. Who was to blame for all their misfortunes. This little shit had managed to spoil all their perfect normal life and he was going to pay for that. Vernon would see to it.
The director watched warily as his ex-subordinate's face went all red from rage and pig eyes filled with deep hatred. He certainly hoped that his old friend wasn't directing all this loathing at him.
"I have to ask you to clear up your working space now. The money has already been transferred to your account," he said finally.
Vernon gave a curt nod and left. His fists were clenching and unclenching and he wanted to badly hurt this abomination, which ruined his life so completely.
Petunia was watching television when she heard Vernon's car pull to a stop at the driveway. She frowned at that. Her husband was usually the one to work till as late as possible to earn more money for their dear little angel, even if it meant working at weekends sometimes.
Coming from work so early was out of character for him and it made her feel wary. Her suspicions only increased as Vernon stormed into the house with the expression of someone ready to commit a murder.
"Umm, dear? Are you all right?" she asked hesitantly. The question 'And why are you at home so early?' was left unsaid, but both heard it anyway.
"Where is the freak?" he bellowed instead of answering. His eyes glinted with righteous fury and Petunia thought that he wouldn't hesitate to hit her if she came in the way of whatever he was planning. Still, she had to try.
"In the cupboard, where he should be. He won't be able to escape the place, hopefully. And there are no rodents there to gnaw on the locks, like it happened with the second bedroom. Why?" She tried to move in front of the staircase. Sure, she hated the boy and wanted him dead, but she wouldn't let her husband go in jail for the little eyesore. She would help Vernon plan the murder so that it couldn't be linked to them in any way. She had to preserve what was left of her respectable lady status.
Now, though, Vernon wasn't able to think about planning and careful preparations because he just wanted this menace to be gone.
He roughly shoved Petunia to the ground. In his deranged state he didn't even care about his wife's surprised cry of pain or the fact that she could have broken a couple of her bones with the force he had pushed her. The man forcefully knocked the door of the cupboard down and froze at what was inside.
The two-and-a half-year-old child was sitting on the dirty mattress and was curiously watching the spiders dance on the floor in front of him. He looked up when he heard the noise and fascination in his eyes changed to confusion as he watched his Uncle stand in the doorway.
Vernon's mouth was agape like that of a fish and he honestly didn't know what to do. All his anger evaporated and pure animalistic fear took its place. He remembered what the boy was. Petunia had stood up by now and, rubbing her aching back, scrambled to the door to see what had her husband so startled. When she saw the insects, she let out a horrified gasp.
It wasn't just one spider dancing, no. That would probably be quite ordinary for their unnatural nephew. The entire floor was filled with the little creatures, which now began to escape the confines of the dark cupboard.
For the first time Petunia realized that maybe they shouldn't have left the boy locked in hopes of starving him to death. Next time they should probably place him somewhere where there was no life at all. Their assassination attempt would have had more chances to succeed this way.
Well, they would deal with the problem after they have cleared the entire place of the spiders, who now seemed to be literally everywhere. They were on the walls and on the floor, on the expensive furniture and on the precious frames with Dudley in them.
Both Dursleys forgot all about the boy as they tried to kill off as many insects as possible. Vernon stomped on them with his enormous feet and his face was all red from the physical efforts he wasn't used to doing. Petunia wasn't faring much better. She took off her pink fluffy slippers and tried to destroy the spiders crawling on the nearest wall, letting out a battle cry with each hit.
All this time Harry was watching his two relatives with enjoyment and childish mirth dancing in his eyes, and clapped in his hands. One of his particularly loud giggles drew attention of the winded Vernon Dursley. The man stopped mid-motion and hatefully glared at the boy. The bastard was laughing at them!
"You! Stop it this instant!" he hollered and the walls shook from the sheer force of the cry.
Harry's giggle died in his throat as he stared at his relatives in incomprehension. He couldn't honestly understand why these people didn't have fun as he did. So, with his confusion, eventually the spiders started dropping dead again because there was no emotion and magic to fuel them anymore.
The Dursleys were once again preoccupied with dodging the tiny bodies falling at them from the ceiling to pay any real attention to what Harry was doing. And right now the boy tried to escape from the cupboard. He had realized that, somehow, these two weren't happy, and it never ended well for him when they were in such a peculiar mood.
"Where are you going, boy!" the horse-faced woman shrieked. She tried to go after him but Vernon beat her to it. He grabbed Harry by the collar of Dudley's old shirt and smashed his fist right in the boy's face.
Harry cried out in pain. He felt as if his face was one huge bruise, not unlike those on his ribs and arms. The obese man hit him a couple of times more before the boy lost his consciousness. Encouraged, Vernon tried to deal the last blows, and his wife's cheers resonated in his ears together with the sound of his rapidly beating heart.
He lifted his hand to punch the freak once more, eager to get rid of this menace. Only…
The fist crashed into the invisible wall right in front of the boy and Vernon howled in pain, cradling his damaged hand.
"Vernon!" Petunia gasped and rushed to his side. She looked at her husband's red knuckles and began moaning about how hurt he must be feeling. "Oh, dear, Vernon. Don't you worry, my sweet, Petunia will take care of your injury, don't worry. Everything will be all right, everything will be okay…"
The walrus slapped her hand away from him and scrambled to his feet. He glared hatefully at the boy he had dropped in his pain.
"It's all this freak's fault! All of it!" He tried to step on the boy but the wall was still there. He turned to his wife. "This fucking old man told us about these 'wards' or something, didn't he?"
Petunia nodded, uncertain about where this was going. "Yeah. When he left it on our doorstep. He wrote about them in the letter."
Vernon smiled sinisterly. "We cannot kill the abomination, but we can get rid of him. Now, I'll take the thing to London's suburbs and dump him there." He frowned when Petunia looked hesitant. "What's up, Pet? Don't you think it's brilliant?"
His wife nodded vigorously. "You will make me the happiest woman on earth if you manage to put him out of our hair. But… don't you fear that the car will get dirty with his dark powers?"
The man patted her back reassuringly. "Don't worry about it, Pet. After this is over, we will buy a new car and a new home in a different neighbourhood. And we will become the family we have always wanted to be. Completely normal."
He squeezed the woman's hand and she smiled.
Yes, their life would be perfect after that. She was sure of it.
Augustus Rookwood swore loudly as he Apparated to the place he didn't quite recognize. Well, obviously it was slums of some city, judging by the shady people around and dirty buildings. The man sneered and covered his brown hair with the hood of his cloak. Luckily, he had remembered to cast a notice-me-not charm on himself so that the muggles wouldn't discern his presence.
Clearly, his efforts were unnecessary. The muggles living here were too engaged in their own dubious activities to give a damn about what other people were doing. Augustus cast a glance at a junkie slut bargaining with a drug dealer about the price of the pills. When the man let out a coarse laugh and grabbed the woman's thighs, the wizard sneered and turned away from the disgusting sight.
Muggles. He couldn't understand how someone could sympathize with the creatures sunk so low.
He thought about his Master, now presumably dead. Lord Voldemort was the only person in their time that had enough guts to stand up for blood purity ideals, a feat not even the most renowned pureblood families had managed to accomplish. It was much easier, after all, to stand aside and lament at how unfair things were and about their prejudiced society instead of actually doing something.
The Rookwood family was average enough and none of the members stood out in anything. They were well off, but not outstandingly so. They were smart, but their intelligence was that of a regular Ravenclaw. Their looks were also nothing much; most of the Rookwoods had brown hair and eyes to match. They didn't even have an affinity for either Light or Dark magic and preferred to stay neutral in most wars.
Until Augustus came, anyway.
The man managed to get into the Department of Mysteries and become an Unspeakable to spy for their Lord. He wasn't exceptional and wasn't high up enough to know the darkest secrets of the Ministry. Nevertheless, he had an access to the underground laboratories, where he had managed to create quite a few of strong useful spells and inventions.
Augustus had no doubt that their Master would return one day and he had to be prepared for it. He wanted to be different from all those arrogant fools grovelling at his Lord's feet. The fact that he craved His approval just as much didn't count.
The brown-haired man was just escaping the dark alley when his attention was snapped to the roaring sound of engine. A moment later he saw a fat ugly man coming out of the car. The man bore an exceptional resemblance to a walrus with his brown moustache. In his hands he held a bundle of blanket, out of which strands of black hair peered.
What intrigued Augustus most, however, was the glare full of loathing that the man sent to the child (?) in his arms.
"Now you will die here, freak," the walrus muttered, placing the bundle on the pavement near the wall. He disregarded the puddle nearby and almost kicked the boy, but then froze in fear, watching something in the far end of the alley.
Augustus turned to look in that direction, too. Yet he was disappointed. There stood nothing more than a foul-smelling rat. Its red eyes were fixed on the obese man, who gulped when the rodent came closer with a predatory grace.
"W-what?" the walrus stuttered. "A good ratty, good. You will not touch old Vernon, right? Look, there is this freak full of tasty meat for you, just don't touch me, please."
The man, Vernon, continued backing out until he felt the cool stone of a wall. Suddenly, there appeared one more rat, from the other corner of the alley. Then another. And again. Vernon broke out into sweat. Augustus watched with fascination how the events will unfold.
Vernon's strangled outcry seemed to be a signal of some kind. All rats in the alley attacked him, tearing into his flesh. The man screamed in unbearable pain and tried to shake them off but didn't succeed. There were more of them than he had originally thought.
A few minutes later the man was nothing more than a mess of blood and meat and bones. The rats stopped and then abruptly dropped dead all at once.
Augustus was left staring at the pile of flesh and red liquid. He blinked and shook it off. It wasn't his business to know how muggle rats behaved. Maybe, the man had poison in his system. Or, maybe, it was normal for them. Who knew?
The man couldn't help being curious, though, and he kneeled in front of the bundle. Lifting the colourful blanket, he gasped in surprise at the child's face. The boy was sleeping soundly, his breathing so soft it was almost inaudible. His eyebrows were furrowed and he seemed to be in pain, having a nightmare, probably.
Most prominent, however, was the angry red scar against the pallor of his skin.
Augustus felt rage consume him. This was the reason for their Lord's downfall. The reason why he, Rookwood, had to hide in such a filthy places since his status as a Death Eater was discovered. The reason he had lost the only person who saw some worth in him. The reason most of the Dark purebloods were now hunted, and anyone from a remotely Dark family was sent to Azkaban, just for being who they were.
The child was Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Couldn't-Even-Fucking-Die. The cause of all their pain and misery and unhappiness.
Augustus raised his wand, Avada Kedavra on his lips, but stopped abruptly. No, it wouldn't do for the boy to die swiftly. He didn't deserve it one bit. Augustus Rookwood would make him pay for all the inconvenience the child had caused. And he knew a way to do it.
One of the spells he had invented made a person experience pain worse than Cruciatus every second of their life. He had gotten the idea after reading about Norse snakes, whose venom, even a drop of it, caused unbearable pain to the person ingesting it. The wizard named it the Loki curse and was proud of his invention.
True, he hadn't tested it and didn't know whether it would work. Not to mention that it was a recent invention. Still, he had to try.
With a spiteful glint in his brown eyes the man raised his wand and spoke the spell.
A second later his eyes widened when he remembered to have made a mistake in the Arithmancy formula, which he hadn't corrected yet. It was too late to do anything, though, and the resulting violent explosion was a proof of it.
Marie let out a contented sigh as she had just finished shopping for the orphanage. She knew that children weren't allowed to eat much or to eat good food. So, she also had had to use her own money to buy some additional sweets. It wasn't much, she knew, but children would be happy all the same.
The matron wasn't a bad woman, since she had been an orphan herself and fully understood what it was like to be despised and looked down on. Unfortunately, their funds were low and they could afford only the bare minimum. The caretakers even had to sometimes deny themselves decent clothes to buy the children second hand winter coats.
Humming under her breath, Marie started walking towards St. Paul's Orphanage. She was lucky the place was near; otherwise she wouldn't have been able to carry all these heavy bags. She didn't have enough money for any means of transport and always had to go on foot. Sometimes her acquaintance, an old man working at the factory, agreed to lend her his old truck. In these rare instances she could close her eyes and dream about expensive things, luxurious life and endless riches. If only her wish came true.
It was already quite dark when she neared the orphanage and saw a child right in the middle of the road. Appalled at the person who could abandon their kid in such a dangerous place, she dropped her bags and ran to the bundle of blankets.
It was a sleeping boy, who didn't look like he could have walked even if she had woken him up. Marie hesitated. She didn't want to leave the precious food here, but she was also afraid of leaving the child on the road, where a car could easily run him over.
She made her choice and placed the bags in the nearest bushes, opting to come for them later. The woman lifted the boy and made way towards the run down building. The child was light and she had no problem in carrying him.
"Marie! Why so long?" a plain-looking woman asked with a displeased expression. "Do you have no shame?"
"Children have been waiting for their food,." another, older woman, joined. "You know we couldn't buy them anything yesterday and they had to eat only bread for two days…" She trailed off, looking at what Marie was holding in her arms.
"I'm sorry; I understand it was selfish of me to take so much time…" Marie smiled hesitantly and gestured at the boy "Umm, we have an addition, as you see."
The old woman, the matron probably, came closer and grabbed the boy. "Such a beautiful child…" she muttered. "Are you sure he was abandoned?"
"I… I don't think any good parent will leave their child in the middle of the road to die."
The matron looked at her sharply. It was one thing to get rid of the child, but it was inhumane to kill him. She looked at the quilt and saw the letters HJP engraved in golden stitching.
"HJP?" she read out loud. "Must be his initials." It was strange that the boy's clothing was so ragged and second hand, and the blanket was of fine material.
"Should we name him?"
"Obviously, we can't call him by a letter," the matron snapped, irritated.
"How about Hadrian James? Sounds nice enough to me," offered the plump woman who had greeted Marie. Her face was clearly disinterested. She was used to getting new kids, after all.
The matron pondered on it. "All right," she finally said. "Hadrian James it is. Any suggestions about his surname? Marie? Kate?"
"Umm… Paradis?" Marie timidly offered.
"God, Marie, you are so sentimental sometimes." Kate sneered. "You can't just go around giving your surname to the orphans."
"It's just that it matches his initials and…" Here Marie's voice lowered into a whisper. "You know I wouldn't live for much longer. I want my father's surname to be passed down."
Kate's eyes softened and she looked at her fellow caretaker pityingly. Everyone here knew that the woman had some kind of weird disease and would live for only a couple of years longer. Marie was pretty useless, but the matron spared her and had given her a work here. From that moment they decided to keep her around to do some odd jobs and run errands. And children liked her, too.
"Hadrian James Paradis," the matron murmured. "Not bad. Hope he will get along with other children."
Unfortunately, her hopes wouldn't come true.
Not much of Harry in the first chapter. The next one, however, will be all about him and his life in the orphanage. And how it was affected by his necromantic abilities. Hope you liked it.