Chapter 1

Finding Harry Potter

Albus Dumbledore had petitioned for years to be allowed to see the confidential records pertaining to Harry Potter. Even being the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot didn't help; nobody was allowed to see them, not even the Minister of Magic. You had to have done something very wrong, on a grand scale, for the records to be seen, never mind used. Everything in the confidential records― Harry's blood type, his magic strength, all bouts of accidental magic― was known about or otherwise. Each person's magical signature was unique. When the babies were born in St. Mungo's, or at least once they arrived at Hogwarts, blood was taken, their magical strength was recorded, and yes, even their magical signature was embedded in a strip of papaya parchment, which lasted longer than normal writing parchment, they'd discovered post-Founders' time.

It had taken him six years to find out which room held the confidential records, and another additional year to figure out the wards and spells surrounding the place. He should have been grateful; they'd once been kept in the bottom, deepest layer of Gringotts. Then during the war with Grindelwald, the Minister had gotten exasperated at having to travel down there each time treason was committed. That was what they'd called it when someone joined Grindelwald's side. They'd had the records moved, having the goblins help secure the room, for a very good price―one even goblins couldn't say no to. Then it came to Albus one day, like a stroke of lightening, all because of something he had seen days earlier: a house elf Apparating into Gringotts for its Master. House elves could get through wards undetected. Of course he couldn't risk anyone finding out, or he would face a very long prison sentence. So he would have to use his personal house elf; the Hogwarts house elves had been given too many liberties to trust them fully to keep their mouths closed.

"Bumble," Dumbledore demanded, calling for his house elf, excitement thrumming through him. He would soon be able to find Harry and begin training him; soon Voldemort would be dealt with. He believed the prophecy so fully, that he didn't dare attempt to strike a blow to Voldemort.

"Yes, sir?" Bumble asked, making an appearance. He was a very old house elf, and he'd served the Dumbledore family for three generations, although he'd been sent away to look after a different property when the Dumbledores had moved to Godric's Hollow. After his Master had been sent to prison, Bumble hadn't been trusted to look after Ariana Dumbledore. He had failed his family, in his eyes, yet as soon as Albus was old enough, he'd taken on his services.

"I need you to enter the records room and bring me Harry Potter's file," Albus Dumbledore said, his twinkle nowhere to be seen. This showed Bumble that his master was serious and that this mission was extremely important.

"Yes, sir," Bumble said, bowing before he disappeared.

Albus stayed where he was, holding his breath and praying to Merlin this worked. For the past seven years he'd been looking for Harry Potter, using all the resources at his disposal. These were quite a lot, but over the years they'd all come up empty. Harry Potter seemed to have fallen off the face of the earth at the age of nine. Dumbledore had taken a lot of heat because of that. Everyone knew he'd taken Harry to the Dursleys' that night, and nobody had been happy about it. Legally there was nothing they could do, though, since technically the Dursleys were his last remaining family. The Wizengamot had brought the family up on charges; abusing a wizard child just wasn't done, they were cherished. The fact that Muggles had done so enraged the entire wizarding community. They'd tried to abolish the rule against sending Muggles to Azkaban, wanting them to pay very heavily for what they'd done. Unfortunately not everyone had been amendable to the idea. Muggles didn't belong in Azkaban, so they'd been sentenced to a Muggle prison, which was actually worse, since child abusers and child killers were not popular in prison. Petunia and Vernon had been imprisoned, and their son went to his only remaining family, Vernon Dursley's sister, Marge. This had all come about when Harry didn't show up for Hogwarts when he was eleven. When Vernon had been questioned under Veritaserum, and all the damage he'd inflicted upon a defenceless child became known, there were those out there who believed Harry was dead. How could any child have endured all that and survived? Especially alone on the street? It seemed impossible, really. Yet most believed that because he'd survived the killing curse, he could survive this and save their world too.

As the seconds ticked by into minutes, Albus felt his bubble of hope burst; had his elf been caught? If so, Bumble could be traced back to him. Perhaps he should Obliviate himself of the knowledge, that way he couldn't be implicated. It certainly wouldn't be the first time; he usually removed the memory, placed it in his pensieve, Obliviated the 'ghostly' memory, as you could call it, that was left, then of course put it back afterwards. He hadn't survived in the wizarding world so long by being stupid.

Just as he had given up all hope, Bumble appeared before him with that all important folder clutched in his gangly hands. Albus all but grabbed it from the poor elf, and began reading everything. With triumphant eyes, he picked up the papayas; now he would have Harry Potter here before nightfall.

Grabbing one of the trinkets surrounding his desk, he let the papayas scroll touch it, and began chanting. The next time the boy used magic, he would know; considering the brat was seventeen and untrained, he'd bet his fortune it would be quite frequent. Once the glow faded from the dark detector, he placed the papayas back into the folder. He couldn't keep it, unfortunately; it was just too risky. Considering he had been the one contesting to see it for the past seven years, they'd suspect him straight away. Taking a deep breath, he almost smiled; things were finally looking up.

"Return this, and then go home," Albus ordered, passing the waiting elf the closed folder.

"Yes, sir," Bumble said, disappearing once again.

Albus slumped onto his chair; he was a step closer to Harry, and hopefully he'd use magic soon. Hogwarts was starting back up in three weeks, and he wanted the boy to be ready by then. He would join the other seventh-years; three weeks would be enough time to get him caught up. Of course he'd have to ask the other teachers to assist. Minerva would be glad to help. Hopefully, so would Flitwick, but he knew Severus wouldn't be happy. The man was currently away from Hogwarts; perhaps it would be best to call him in. Severus had been searching for Harry as long as he had, and nobody was better than Severus at tracking people. No, he would wait until the boy did magic, then call a few Order members.

"Albus, are you feeling alright?" Minerva asked; the man looked as though he had ants in his pants. He was barely eating his dinner, and he had a dark detector on the side of the table. There were only a few teachers here this summer: Filius, Minerva, Albus, Pomona, and the Librarian Irma Pince. There was of course Cuthbert Binns, the ghost teacher, who didn't come to meals for obvious reasons: he couldn't eat. Argus Filch was also another person within the school. He chose to eat in his office, staying out of everyone's way. Nobody could blame him, he was a squib in a magical school filled with budding wizards and witches, and of course qualified ones as well. Hagrid usually remained all year around also, but he was curiously absent this summer.

"I am fine, Minerva," Dumbledore replied. All day he'd been waiting impatiently for the detector to go off, but nothing had happened as of yet. Not even a little peep from the detector, and he was quickly losing his cool. Many would think Albus could be patient, considering his age. On this subject, though, he wasn't patient, he wanted Harry Potter safely within Hogwarts. He would find him and get the acclamation for finally bringing their lost hero back home again.

"If you insist," Minerva reluctantly accepted, still staring curiously; she hadn't seen Albus so energetic for a long time. He'd been so weighed down by the guilt he carried around; her first words when she'd found out probably hadn't helped matters. She'd thrown in his face what she'd said the night Harry was taken to Privet Drive, that she had told him they were the worst sort of Muggles. Harry had paid a heavy price for their actions; she didn't believe Harry was alive. No child could bear the brunt of that kind of abuse and still be alive, especially without getting treatment, and then running away and living on the street.

"Have the letters all gone out without a glitch?" Albus asked, changing the subject onto something else.

"Yes," Minerva said. "Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy have accepted their positions as Head boy and girl." No doubt when they found out they'd be rooming together for the next year it would be explosive, to say the least. Draco Malfoy had constantly bullied Hermione for years. She'd eventually learned to stand up for herself; a bit late perhaps, but better than never. They both always competed for top marks in quite a few classes.

"Good, good," Albus said, "I'm glad to hear it." Not many people actually turned down the chance to be Head boy or girl, but in the past few years, with Voldemort back, they'd had their share of refusals. Somehow word had got out that he took a special interest in them. It had scared them beyond belief and so some refused the honour the title bestowed upon them.

"I still think Padma Patil would have been a much better choice," Filius said; he had not been happy that once again another Gryffindor had acquired the position of Head girl. It had been years since a Ravenclaw was elected for such an honour. Padma had been picked as Prefect as well, so Filius thought very highly of her.

"She's an excellent student," Albus agreed, "However, Hermione Granger has consistently made higher grades; when she was a prefect her grades didn't suffer, whereas Padma Patil's did. We are only thinking of your student, Filius." He was used to the arguing, and always knew how to calm his subordinates down.

"Well, they did suffer slightly," the Charms professor grumbled in reluctant agreement of the Headmaster's words.

"Well, I do believe I have an entire tray of correspondence with my name on it," Albus said, standing up, "I shall bid you good evening and see you tomorrow."

Everyone bid him goodnight; Minerva, though, watched him leaving. He had a jump in his step; she was definitely going to speak to him soon. Something was up, she knew Albus well enough to know.

Albus had taken his dark detector to bed that night, charming it to make noise instead of lighting up. He wouldn't see the charm go off while he was asleep, now would he? So noise was the next best thing for him. Not that he got much sleep; he'd tossed and turned the entire night, waiting for the boy to use magic, but each hour that passed his hope faded fast. Just because the charm worked, it didn't mean Harry was alive. He took the trinket with him everywhere, even to the toilet, not wanting to take the chance of missing it.

"Albus, what are you up to?" Minerva asked, coming into the Headmaster office. The wizard was currently writing with one of Fawkes' feathers. It was gold and red; it matched the room's colour scheme perfectly.

Albus stared at his Deputy Headmistress curiously, not understanding what she was implying.

"You have been much too…hyper these days, have you been eating too many Lemon Drops again?" Minerva asked. She knew he laced them with calming draughts; he was addicted to the stuff. During the war everyone had needed something, and that was Albus' vice.

Albus made himself look contrite; he couldn't tell her what he'd done. He couldn't tell anyone; they wouldn't understand. They would see it as a betrayal. He'd done it, so be it; the wizarding world was too important for him to play by their rules. Harry had a duty to perform, and to do that he needed to be found and trained. It would be easy; no doubt he'd be shocked and awed by their displays of magic and want to learn himself... just like all Muggle-born children were upon being introduced to the wizarding world. Harry might not be Muggle-born, but he was indeed Muggle raised.

"Albus, you know this isn't good for you," Minerva chided, shaking her head despondently, completely buying Dumbledore's guilty look. Evidently she didn't know him as well as she thought. "You heard Poppy― the long term effect it has on you won't be good."

"I understand, Minerva," Albus sighed in mock contrition, scribbling his name at the bottom of the paperwork before giving her his undivided attention.

"You are worrying about Harry again, aren't you?" Minerva asked, taking a seat and obviously there to stay, much to Dumbledore's inward exasperation.

"I just wished I knew where the child was, if he is okay," Albus said tiredly. The lack of sleep was now getting to him.

"Albus… do you really believe he could have survived all those years on the street?" Minerva asked; this was where they always disagreed.

"I pray he did, you know how important he is to our world," Albus said. If he had survived Voldemort, he had to have survived his Uncle, the old wizard thought; he had a prophecy to fulfill. He believed the boy was alive, and he would never give up hope. He probably wouldn't believe it even if he'd seen proof of Harry's dead body, that was how much he believed in divination. Ironically enough, Voldemort believed in it too.

"How can you say that? He was just a little boy, Albus, not something to be paraded around to the masses!" Minerva exclaimed. She knew she couldn't stay here; when Albus on started this line of thinking, she just couldn't keep her mouth shut. "Excuse me, Albus, I have classes to prepare for."

Albus sighed, he hated having these arguments with Minerva, and unfortunately they'd never agree on this. She'd soon see that Harry was alive and well; he just had to be patient, sooner or later his magic would react. Then the world would see, and soon Voldemort would be destroyed for good. He had all of the Horcruxes destroyed, without the insane wizard detecting his actions; he had put wards up after he collected them, so Voldemort would only know when he did go back for them.

Albus applied himself to his correspondence, replying when he must, or filling out yet more forms. Most were important ones, such as scholarship forms for students who wanted to attend but couldn't quite afford it. These were mostly Muggle-borns; purebloods and half-bloods began saving from the moment their child was born or displayed magical talents... with the notable exception of the Weasleys who hadn't been able to afford to send their kids without scholarships.

Albus sighed in exasperation as yet more owls began bothering him; he never got a second's peace. Taking the letters, he let the owls go and dealt with them; he might as well, instead of allowing them to pile up like they did during the school year. Then as if by divine providence, the dark detector lit up, and Dumbledore's entire expression changed to one of supreme satisfaction.

Hurriedly he grabbed his Floo powder and yelled into the flames: Marauders' den. He came through into Grimmauld Place, the bright cheerful kitchen welcoming him. The two wizards sitting there looked at him curiously, wondering why he'd come.

"I've found Harry, would you like to accompany me?" Albus calmly asked, as if he wasn't excited.

Remus and Sirius stood up, nodding their heads eagerly. "How did you find him?" Sirius asked, his blue eyes alight with excitement.

"Someone thinks they've spotted him. Now we must go quickly; hold on," Albus directed. Both wizards did as they were told and before long they found themselves in a Muggle street. Thankfully there weren't many people there; when onlookers did notice wizards arriving, they just tended to shrug it off as not note-worthy. You could do magic in front of Muggles and they wouldn't believe it; they would just assume it was a stunt. Not many Muggles really believed in magic any more, and that was the way the Wizarding Ministry wanted it.

"I can't see him," Sirius said, looking around. His eagerness was quickly fading to apprehension; he couldn't see anyone that looked like James even the slightest.

"He's here," Albus insisted; he'd been guided by the boy's own magic in a sort of forced Apparation to his side. He was somewhere around here, and he quickly used magic on those he sensed didn't have any to make them want to leave the area. He couldn't have anyone around when they began convincing Harry about magic, now could he? The boy was probably confused about it, all the weird things happening around him.

"I wish it was closer to the full moon," Remus said fretfully. There was a first for everything, and him saying that now was definitely the first time. Remus hated the full moon, and wished he didn't turn into a wolf. Remus inhaled anyway, trying to get a whiff of Harry's scent. He hadn't smelt him in years, but he'd never forget how the boy he loved smelled.

"Are you sure your contact was right?" Sirius asked, still looking around the street.

"Yes, he's right, he was positive about it, in fact," Dumbledore said, allowing them to believe what they liked.

"It's him," Remus announced, his eyes fixing on the figure walking out of a shop.

Sirius followed Remus' line of sight and his blue eyes lit up; the boy did look similar to James… although not as much as he'd imagined over the years. He wondered if Harry would be good at Quidditch, just like his dad…or transfiguration…or what Animagus he'd have, and what Patronus. He was going to have so much fun with Harry, telling him stories about his dad; he finally had his godson within arm's reach.

"It is," Dumbledore agreed. The magical signature was the same; the closer they got to Harry, the more the dark detector buzzed in his robe pocket.

"Harry!" Sirius called, a grin spreading across his face; he was alive and well. He couldn't believe his good fortune; life was finally looking up for the Animagus.

Harry looked back, hearing his name being called; not many knew him by that name. He took one look at their clothes, and the old man in their midst before he burst into a run. He knew who that was, and he'd be damned if he went with him. He didn't dare look back, but he could hear them running after him. Living on the streets, Harry had learned to run quite fast, and knew the ins and outs of the area like the back of his hands. Unfortunately that didn't quite match up to three adult wizards who could Apparate.

"HELP! THIS PERVERT'S TRYING TO KIDNAP ME!" Harry yelled when hands wrapped around his midsection. It would have amused Harry at how quickly the black haired guy let him go if he wasn't so worried.

Sirius felt sickened by the accusations coming out of his godson's mouth. "Harry, calm down; I'm your godfather, we are here to take you home," he said, as the three wizards surrounded him, leaving Harry no way to escape.

"Fuck off, you disgusting mother fucker!" Harry cursed while kicking him in the balls, using that to try and get away. He took a few steps then his world went black, as he felt magic hit his back.

"What did you do that for?!" Sirius complained, rushing to Harry's side.

"We cannot continue this here, we must get him to Hogwarts," Dumbledore said.

"Come on, let's go; it's getting crowded again," Remus said worriedly; he could sense the people rounding the corner.

Albus wasted no time; he held onto Harry and Apparated them both to the gates of Hogwarts, then proceeded to float the stunned seventeen-year-old through the halls and up to the room he'd had prepared earlier for him. Sirius and Remus followed behind him like puppies.

"Come in and shut the door; we cannot have him fleeing again," Albus told them.

Remus closed the door as he and Sirius entered. Sirius seemed rather bewildered by the events that had just transpired. He had expected hugging, crying, and long conversations. Nowhere in this world had he thought he'd be called a pervert by his own godson! It made him sick to his stomach, and truth be told, he didn't want Harry to wake up…he couldn't take any more harsh vitriol coming his way.

"Enervate," Albus said, once Harry was on the bed.

"Where the hell have you fuckers taken me?" Harry cried as he warily looked around the room. His heart was pounding away in his chest erratically like an off-beat drum.

"Calm down, Harry, you are safe here; it's a school for special people like you," Remus said quietly, "You have magic, magic that can do wonderful things and if you let us help you…you can harness that power."

"I don't want your fucking help, old man, now let me leave," Harry snapped, his green eyes flashing furiously.

"We need to get rid of that language as well, it's not becoming of such a young man to curse like that," Dumbledore said, observing Harry critically.

"Screw you," Harry sneered, his lip curled in a manner that reminded the three of a certain Potions Master. "So what are you going to do then? Keep me a fucking prisoner? You can't make me do fucking anything."

"Is it not better being here? Somewhere warm, with a bed to sleep in and all the food you could eat?" Albus questioned kindly, adding, "With magic you could go on to do great things."

Harry stopped glaring, looking around a thoughtful look on his face, "Well…it would be nice," he said with a vulnerable hint showing on his face.

"It's a castle, it's beautiful! You'll love it here, Harry; your mum and dad attended!" Sirius said, eagerly joining in now that Harry seemed to have stopped cursing.

"A castle?" Harry asked, his eyes going wide, "Really?"

"Yes!" Sirius cried with abandon, "Come on, I'll show you around!"

Harry bit his lip, staring at them in contemplation. "Fine," he finally said grudgingly, walking towards the door with Sirius. As soon as it opened, Harry darted past, slamming the door closed in their faces as he bolted. He ran quicker than he'd ever run before in his life, cursing every few minutes when there seemed to be more than one bloody corridor.

"HARRY, STOP!" Sirius yelled, his voice sounding everywhere.

"Shit," Harry gasped as his chest heaved with exertion; he'd been running non-stop for ten minutes trying to find a way out. It really was a castle then, which sucked big time; it meant getting away would be harder.

"HARRY!" Remus yelled.

Harry rounded yet another corner, and came face to face with big double doors. Doors that led outside... Taking a deep breath he bolted for them. If they caught sight of him he'd just be hit with that spell again, not something he was keen on at all. Nobody was around, though, and that was good. He managed to get within feet of the doors before they closed on him, bolts sliding into place, making it impossible for him to get away.

"It seems you cannot be trusted," Albus said coming forward, a sad look on his aged face. "This is for your own good, my boy." Another spell hit him and he was out for the count.

Harry moaned in agony, clutching his head, thinking, 'my god, it hurt like hell.' He'd soon learn that having the stunning spell left on and allowing it to wear off on its own would cause the pain. He was back in that bloody room again; he jumped up and tried to open the door. He grumbled but wasn't surprised when it didn't open for him. Then he noticed the bracelet on his wrist; it wasn't his! He found to his confusion that it wouldn't come off.

"Morning, Harry," Sirius said, coming in with a tray of food. "Are you feeling better?" He avoided touching Harry, not wanting any accusations levelled his way.

"Is there a knife on that tray?" Harry asked, glaring at Sirius unnoticed since the black-haired man wouldn't meet his face.

"Erm… yes, why?" Sirius asked, finally looking up as he placed the tray on the table.

"Because I'm going to gut you with it, you disgusting fucker," Harry snarled, grabbing it and advancing on the wide-eyed wizard who gulped fearfully, stumbling back. "Trust me, I'd like nothing more than to kill all of you spineless, useless, fucking arseholes…and I'd be within my rights, seeing as you've kidnapped me."

Sirius squeaked before stumbling back through the portrait and locking Harry back in. He slumped against the door, tears of frustration making their way into his eyes. This wasn't how he imagined finding his godson after all those years. He couldn't stand it, seeing him like this; he wouldn't go back in there, he absolutely refused.

Edited by Jake and Jordre Thank you guys! :)