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Category: Alternate Universe, Post-DH/AB Characters:All Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Romance Warnings: Disturbing Imagery, Mild Language, Negative Alcohol Use Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 154 Summary: Harry Potter awakes from a coma into a new world built on foundations of lies and deceit. What happened to him? And why have his friends and family turned on him? Harry Potter may have won The War, but can he win his life back? Hitcount: Story Total: 64285; Chapter Total: 3779 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: Hi all. Once again sorry for the delay. The next few weeks will be busy as hell for me but then I have around a month off for the holiday season which hopefully means we can start making real progress with the story. I have been getting a bit of writing done when I can and am currently working on chapter 16. If all goes to plan, the story will be around 21-22 chapters long. Thanks for reading guys and please leave a review if you can! |
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Harry groaned in exhaustion as he carefully lowered himself down onto his hospital bed. A day full of stretches and various other physical activities had left him physically and mentally drained. Dr Browne had worked him hard, doing test after test until he was eventually satisfied that Harry’s physical strength was returning to him. However what worried Browne, and Harry even more so, was the loss of his magic. At first Browne had said, somewhat confidently, that a short period of low magical output can occur after suffering such a bout of magical exhaustion. However, two whole days without so much as a spark and Browne’s reassurances were a lot less convincing. Harry had grown to like Dr Browne in the short period they had been together. He was a kindly spoken, caring individual, if not a little dull, but he was a stabilising presence and a friend…the only one Harry seemed to have at the moment. However today, something had seemed a little…off about Browne. He seemed…jittery and nervous. His eyes kept darting around the room and he was more than a little jumpy. The fourth time Browne had jumped at the sound of Harry’s voice, the young wizard confronted him about it. “Oh it’s nothing Harry. I’m just a little over-tired is all.” Harry wasn’t all that convinced. Harry winced as he shifted his stiff limbs slightly in an attempt to get comfortable. It was almost 10pm. As he looked around the drab surroundings, Harry’s mind wandered to places where he had been trying to avoid. 3 years. Three years of his life…gone. He was twenty one years old. That meant Ron and Hermione were too. His heart ached as he thought of his two best friends. Where were they now? More importantly, why hadn’t they come to visit him? Had they not heard that he had woken up? His thoughts strayed to Ginny. She would be twenty by now. Harry smiled as he re-called the summer evenings they had spent together by Hogwarts lake in his sixth year. Ginny had always been going on about what she would do to each of her brothers when she finally came of age. Harry turned more sombre. Had she visited him? Had she waited for him? Or was she with someone else? His heart sank. Of course she was. No one would wait for over three years… Not for the first time Harry’s eyes filled with tears. THREE BLOODY YEARS! Three years of his life torn away from him. He should have been able to celebrate the end of The War, he should have been able to grieve with his friends and remaining family, he should have been able to, at least try re-kindle his relationship with Ginny. During those bleak nights he had spent camping in the British wilderness with Hermione and Ron, Harry had been unable to stop himself planning for life after The War. But nothing ever went to plan. Not for Harry Potter. Harry shook his head in attempt to clear his thoughts. It did himself no good to think of these things. He couldn’t change the past, he had to live in the now. Harry allowed his eyelids to drift shut, the methodical beep of nearby medical equipment the only other sound in the room apart from his own steady breathing. Then Harry heard it. A muffled thump from the corridor just outside his room made Harry sit upright with a start. He glanced at the clock on the far wall of the room. It was almost 3am, he must have drifted off to sleep. Another thump, this one closer than the last, caused Harry to jump again. What would Dr Browne be doing at this hour of the morning? A third thump followed the previous two, this one accompanied by a shout of a man in shock, right outside Harry’s door. Something wasn’t right. His heart racing, Harry looked round the room rapidly, looking for a wand, then growled in frustration when he remembered Browne had taken it with him, then growled in frustration again when he realised what little good it would have done him. For all he knew he was a squib. Harry’s focus returned to the noises as he heard someone scratching at the lock of the door. His heart was definitely thumping now. He had to defend himself with something! He spotted an oil lamp on Browne’s work desk and darted towards it, his stiff limbs protesting at the sudden exertion. Just as Harry turned with lamp in hand, ready to throw, the door opened and a sullen, unshaven and rather dirty man entered, his wand aloft. “Who are you and what do you want?” Harry asked, sounding braver than he felt. The man didn’t respond but stared at him dumbstruck. “Harry! It’s true. I’d been told but… to see you awake…in the flesh…” Harry lowered the lamp slightly, the sheer awe in the man’s voice putting him at ease. “Yes. I’ve been awake for two days. Do I know you?” “Harry, it’s me.” The man whispered. “Sirius.” “Sirius?” Harry breathed, astounded. Harry took in the man’s gaunt, pale, face, stooped posture and long, ragged hair. If Harry looked hard he could see the resemblance to his Godfather, but if it was him, he looked worse than Harry had ever seen him. “Look at you. What happened?” Sirius shrugged and gave an attempt at his old boyish smile, a ghost of what it once was. “Age, at its most destructive. C’mere.” Harry grinned and embraced his godfather who gave a bark of a laugh. They held onto each other for several minutes before Sirius pulled back and grasped Harry’s shoulders with tears in his eyes. “I’ve missed you. So, so much. I thought you would never wake.” Harry just nodded, glad to finally have a visitor. “Not that I’m not pleased to see you Siruis, but why did you come to visit so late? It’s 3am.” Harry’s question snapped Sirius, who had been drinking in Harry’s appearance, back to his senses. “This isn’t a visit. You’re leaving, with me. Now.” “Leaving now but…” “No time for buts Harry.” Sirius said in a commanding voice that Harry knew better than to question. “Grab your things and let’s go. Where’s your wand?” “I don’t have one.” “Well you’re lucky I have spares,” Sirius said, offering Harry a short, fat wand. “Sirius,” Harry started, not taking the wand from his godfather, “there’s no point-“ Sirius cut across him: “There’s no time to argue Harry! Take the wand and let’s go!” “Sirius, you’re not listening! I can’t!” “Can’t what?” Harry sighed and ran a hand through his messy black hair. “I can’t…can’t do magic,” he muttered ashamedly. “I haven’t been able to cast a spell since I woke.” Sirius gaped at his godson and whitened visibly, despite his already pale complexion. “Well…well, that’s okay,” Sirius spluttered in a feeble attempt to mask his horror. “Just stick behind me okay?” Harry nodded. They crept out of the room and Harry spotted what the earlier thumps had been. Three men, each in Ministry robes lay slumped on the floor. Harry didn’t know he was being guarded. As they passed Dr Browne’s private quarters, something occurred to Harry. “What about Dr Browne?” he whispered. “Has he been stunned too?” “Don’t worry about him. C’mon.” Harry took that as a yes. They continued to creep forwards through the dark, dingy corridor before rounding a corner and coming to an abrupt halt. Sirius raised a finger to his lips and they listened hard. Two pairs of approaching footsteps could be heard accompanied by panicked voices. “They’ve spotted them,” Sirius whispered. “Spotted what?” Harry asked. “The two other stunned guards at the entrance.” Before Harry could ask why he was being guarded so heavily, Sirius moved on, with Harry in tow right behind him. They stopped once again as the corridor banked to the right. The footsteps were much closer now, and were coming directly towards them. “Here,” Sirius said, handing Harry a large piece of cloth. “Put this on.” Harry did as he was told and realised what it was. “My invisibility cloak! You still have it?” “Of course I do, now shh.” They waited for several seconds in silence as the footsteps approached, then as the two guards rounded the corridor, Sirius acted with stunning speed, downing the men with two waves of his wand. He may not look his best, but Sirius had definitely not lost his duelling skills. After checking that the two men were thoroughly knocked out, he moved onwards, motioning for Harry to follow. “Once we get outside the circumference of the wards we can apparate you home,” Sirius murmured. Harry was still under the invisibility cloak, and therefore Sirius missed Harry’s reaction to his words. Home. Harry still had a home. He could still belong. Throughout the two days since his revival Harry had worried endlessly that he had been left behind by his friends, and who he considered were his family. Not once had he received a visit or a message from any of them over the 48 hours and Harry couldn’t help but feel lonely…left behind. Had they forgotten that he existed? Or were they so busy with their new lives and their new friends that they did not have time to visit? These fears sat like a pile of lead in his stomach, and no matter how he tried to distract himself, or indeed Dr Browne tried to distract him, he couldn’t shake the loneliness that plagued him. For the first time, however, his fears were placated. He still had a home to go to, with Sirius in Grimmauld Place. His spirits heightened, Harry crept behind Sirius as they headed towards the exit at the end of the corridor. The door lay wide open, indicating that it was the way Sirius had gone in. They stepped out into the night breeze, Harry clutching the billowing ends of the cloak to stop it blowing off him. Sirius surveyed the scene, and, apparently satisfied they were alone, turned towards Harry who took his cloak off. “Let’s go,” he said, offering Harry his right arm. Harry grasped it tightly with his left hand, the cloak in his right, and braced himself for the uncomfortable pressure that was to come. There was a loud crack and Harry opened his eyes…and gasped. The place was a mess. Sheets of dust layered the floor, only perforated by footprints and the odd firewhiskey or potion bottle. The walls were preyed upon by large patches of damp and a stench of rotting lay thick on the air. The dim lighting cast shadows on the hallway showing overturned furniture and long-forgotten about food wrappings that had hints of mould. Harry even swore he had heard a squeak of a mouse on arrival. Harry glanced at Sirius in horror, and he too seemed to be shocked at how filthy the place was. “Erm…sorry,” Sirius murmured, avoiding making eye contact with Harry as he stooped to pick up a discarded beer bottle. “It’s been a while since I’ve cleaned up.” Harry followed Sirius into the kitchen in stunned silence and brushed dust off one of the chairs at the table so he could sit down. Harry watched Sirius worriedly as his godfather hastily shoved bottle after bottle into a black bin sack and waved his wand to clear the dust off the kitchen surfaces. “What’s going on Sirius?” Harry asked tentatively. “What have you been doing for these last three years?” “Nothing,” he answered defensively. “The place just needs a clean, that’s all.” “A clean?! Sirius the place looks like it’s been abandoned and left to rot. Please tell me you haven’t been living here all this time?” Sirius didn’t answer but went back to collecting discarded rubbish. “Speaking of cleaning,” Harry pressed. “You look like you haven’t showered in days…weeks even...” “I’M SORRY OKAY?!” Sirius bellowed, spinning around to face his godson. “I didn’t realise my darling godson expected to be treated like a bloody King upon arrival!” he snarled. Harry blinked in shock at his Sirius’ outburst, before the shock was replaced with an anger of his own. “Hold on a second!” Harry snapped, jumping to his feet. “I’ve just come home after 3 YEARS of being in a coma to find my godfather looking like he’s a homeless alcoholic and his house, OUR house, barely fit for habitation! So, sorry for showing some bloody concern!” Sirius stared in outrage at Harry before his face crumpled and he put his head in his hands. After a few moments he regained his composure. “You’re right Harry, I’m sorry. Please, sit down,” he said, indicating towards the chair that Harry had previously been occupying. Harry did as he was told, never taking his eyes off his godfather. Sirius sat opposite him and sighed, massaging his temples with dirty hands. “Where to begin?” he mumbled before he clasped his hands together and looked at Harry over the tips of his fingers in a rather Dumbledore-like manner. However instead of seeing the sparkling blue eyes of his old friend and headmaster, Harry saw tired eyes filled with sadness and…regret? “These last few years,” Sirius began, “have been tough. Do you remember the moments before you…?” Harry nodded. He had experienced flashes of The War in his sleep as his memories returned to him. He remembered everything up until he cast his last spell against Voldemort. “Well, after finding out you disobeyed my strict orders to stay in the castle and not go chasing after Voldemort alone,” Sirius said crossly, “I went searching for you in the Forest when I heard an explosion. I ran towards the source of the noise and found you l-lying sprawled on the g-ground,” Sirius stuttered, the emotion of reliving these memories obviously getting to him. “I thought I’d lost you…I thought you were dead.” Harry heard the hint of accusation in hid godfather’s voice and he knew he deserved it. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you Sirius, but I had to do it. No listen!” Harry urged as Sirius scoffed at his statement. “I really did have to do it alone.” It was Sirius’ turn to listen to what Harry had to say about Dumbledore, the Horcruxes and the Deathly Hallows as Sirius, like everyone else apart from himself, Ron and Hermione, was left in the dark about the details of the mission Dumbledore had left the trio. Silence fell between them as Sirius stared in shock, anger and wonderment at his godson. Shock at the fact Harry himself had been a Horcrux, anger at Dumbledore for leaving Harry, who at the time was just seventeen, a task so difficult he doubted the top Aurors in the country would dare to attempt, and wonderment at the sheer heart and bravery of the tired young man that sat before him. “You really are your father’s son,” Sirius croaked. “He would be so proud of you.” Harry nodded. “He is proud of me, I know he is. Now it’s your turn to talk.” And so Sirius explained it all. How Aerys Snidefish had offered second-to-none healthcare in return for Sirius’ silence, how the Auror abused the agreement to hide the fact the Ministry had failed to protect Harry by saying Harry had agreed to a high-end Auror course in America where Harry now resided to cover for the fact Harry was missing. How Aerys used his significant influence and wealth to bully, buy and blackmail his way to becoming the next Minister for Magic and used his new position to lean on the Daily Prophet to create stories and pictures of Harry abroad, how everyone thought he had a successful career, beautiful girlfriend and the world at his feet, how he was too busy to return home, yet held hopes of returning in the future. Harry’s head was spinning. “W-why wouldn’t he just kill me?” “He probably would of if I wasn’t with him in the forest,” Sirius replied, shaking his head in anger. “He knew you would have supported Kingsley in his campaign to be Minister for Magic if you survived and knew every person in Britain would have followed your judgement. His only hope to gain power was if you were…removed from his way. However he couldn’t kill you in front of me, but he did the next best thing, tricked me into handing you over. If he killed you then, the agreement silencing me would have become void and he knew I would tell the world what had happened.” “He did all of this…j-just to be Minister for Magic?” Sirius nodded gravely. “And he has made good use of his time in power. He has made the rich richer and the poor poorer, all the while lining his own pocket in the process. He has passed anti-Goblin, anti-Werewolf and anti-House-elf legislation, consolidating the wizarding world’s hold on power.” Sirius finished and looked at Harry with a deep sadness. “I’m so so sorry Harry. I should never have agreed with that bastard.” Harry was in shock, his face pale and his hands shaking. “B-but that would m-mean everyone thinks I-I abandoned them. That I left without so much as a g-goodbye and started a new life without them.” Sirius nodded gravely. “B-but surely,” Harry continued, “s-surely the Weasleys, surely R-Ron and Hermione would never believe that I would leave them.” “They didn’t believe,” Sirius said, “Not at first. They set out to find you and began digging and investigating as you would expect them to. But you have to understand, Aery’s had, still has, everyone important in his pocket. Everyone the Weasleys asked confirmed the stories being printed by the papers. I am bound unto death, I physically can’t tell anyone until I die; and trust me, I have tried.” Harry was on his feet, his head spinning. “B-but surely, surely Ginny doesn’t think that I abandoned her, left her to live the high life in America?” Sirius just looked at Harry sadly. It all made sense now. The lack of visitors, messages. Everything made sense. It was all true. Harry exploded. “IT’S NOT BLOODY FAIR,” he screamed, lashing out and knocking his chair to the ground. “I FOUGHT VOLDEMORT SO I COULD LIVE MY LIFE, SO EVERYONE COULD LIVE IN PEACE! BUT NO! HARRY CAN NEVER BE HAPPY! HARRY CAN NEVER HAVE IT EASY! NOT ONLY HAVE I LOST THREE YEARS OF MY LIFE BUT I’VE LOST EVERYONE I’VE EVER CARED ABOUT!” Harry sank to the floor against the back kitchen wall and sobbed. Sirius approached him warily. When he realised Harry wasn’t about to lash out again anytime soon he sank down beside his still-sobbing godson and wrapped an arm around his slim shoulders. Harry had lost a lot of weight. “Shh,” Sirius murmured. “We can fix this, I will fix this. Let’s go back to the table. C’mon.” He offered Harry his hand which Harry took grudgingly. “C’mon. Sit down there. Want a cuppa?” Harry nodded as he took a seat and put his head in his hands. “T-thanks,” Harry croaked as a steaming mug of tea was placed before him. Harry took a sip as Sirius sat opposite him, the warmth of the liquid immediately making him feel a bit better. Just a bit. “We can fix this Harry,” Sirius urged. “We will fix this.” “How?” Harry asked, his despair evident in his voice. “I’m broken Sirius. I can’t do magic. I’m a squib!” “You are not a squib,” Sirius insisted sternly. “You suffered magical exhaustion, you’ll be able to do magic again. Don’t you worry.” “Hold on,” Harry said, frowning. “How did you know about that?” “About what?” “The magical exhaustion.” “I know Dr Edward Browne. We went to school together, he was a year below me. He was the one who told me where you were and told me the schedules and the positions of the guards. Edward will be staying here with us for a while.” When Harry raised his eyebrows at this, Sirius went on. “Aerys has threatened his family and now you’ve escaped he’ll no longer be safe. He has taken his family abroad but has agreed to stay here with us so he can help you recover. It’s safe for him here as well. Those weren’t Aurors we faced at the ward, they were his own private guard filled with mercenaries and thugs. One of the first laws Aerys passed was the ability for the Minister of Magic to create his own law-enforcing unit to do his bidding unchecked, without having to go through the paperwork involved in setting objectives for the Aurors. They’re his own hit-squad and they’ll be searching for us. Aerys will know I have you because I’m the only one, apart from Edward, who knew where you were. Luckily, however, Grimmauld Place is still unplottable, so we’re safe here, for now.” Harry nodded gravely. There was so much to take in, so much to get his head around. “So,” Harry asked tiredly, yet with growing frustration, “if he has everyone important in his pocket, and his own private group of thugs, how in Merlin’s name are we going to fix this?” “I have a plan for that,” Sirius said. The gleam of determination and a new sense of purpose in his godfather’s eyes did not go unnoticed by Harry. “Aerys must have stepped on a lot of important toes to get where he is today. And while he has probably blackmailed and threatened them into silence, if I gather them together, they may speak out against him.” “And who might these people be?” “Well Robards for a start. His Auror unit has been reduced to a group of wizards twiddling their thumbs while less skilled and less trained thugs do their jobs for them in a less-than-legal manner. I’ll start there.” “What will I do?” Harry asked, yawning as the day’s events finally caught up with him. Sirius walked around the table to Harry and pulled him upright into a hug. “For now, you will rest and focus on recovering. Go up to bed and take the second room on the left on the first floor. I had a go at cleaning that one before I came to get you.” Harry just nodded, barely listening as he plodded up the stairs and stumbled into the bedroom. The room still had a thin layer of dust on the floor, and there were patches of damp in the corners where the wall met the ceiling; it was probably the cleanest room in the house. Harry, however, was oblivious to the state of the room in his tiredness as he kicked off his shoes and jumped under the covers fully-clothed. He was asleep within seconds. |
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