Surprising Visions
Harry had his eyes closed as he released all of the innermost memories he had of the Dursleys. When he had felt the projection spell Madame Bones using slacken as he reached the end of the memories of his fourth year, he had realised he had an opportunity which he couldn't ignore. For too long, the magical world had ignored the abuse he had gone through in the muggle world, and now it was time to reveal what he had gone through.
The audience in the chamber was immobilised by the spell once more, and they saw Harry's earliest memories where he was loved and cherished by Lily and James Potter, and even by Fleamont and Euphemia Potter before their deaths.
To the surprise of everyone in the audience chamber, they witnessed one of young Harry's earliest memories was an attack on Potter Manor. The elder Potters were in the living room, surrounded by numerous portraits of the Potter family's ancestors, who gazed lovingly at the little boy held in Euphemia's lap.
"James, I'm worried for you," Euphemia was saying to her son and daughter-in-law. "I want you to stop fighting for Dumbledore."
"Mum, we've been over this-," James rubbed his face.
"No, sport, your mother is right; you have a son now. When your great Aunt Sophie joined Grindelwald, and she became pregnant, she left. Grindelwald found out and he told her to go, that he was not going to ask for a mother to give up her child," Fleamont said patiently.
"So, you're saying Lily and I should have joined the Death Eaters, is that it?"
Fleamont ran a hand through his hair in frustration; for the members of the audience who knew Harry the most, they recognised the mannerism instantly. "No, that is not what we're saying."
"James, you know as well as I do that the Potters have always been neutral, and we've either sided with the Light or the Dark. I never trusted Dumbledore - hear me out," Euphemia held up her hand sternly when she saw her only son about to protest. "It's not right for him to ask you to risk the lives of your wife and child like this. It's one thing for witness protection, but this whole situation you both won't talk about is scaring me. I don't like how you've gone into hiding when there are perfectly good wards here at Potter Manor. We're scared, James. Now Charlus and Dorea are dead, and Natalie and Harika are gone, you three are all we have left. It's not right. We're scared Dumbledore is planning to use you for one of his games."
"That is not true, Mum," James protested hotly.
Lily sighed. This was a bone of contention for her as well and it was clear she believed what her mother-in-law was saying was pinpoint accurate. "James, I wanted us to leave the country, to follow Natalie after she'd left him to go to America. There's family there. We could look after Harry there. I don't want us to die for nothing. I also don't like the way Dumbledore handling this. We're hiding from Voldemort. But we can't run or hide forever, and I also don't like being a sitting duck."
"We are Potters! We don't run from anyone!" James snapped.
Fleamont and Euphemia watched as Lily groaned, sparing them a long-suffering look of pure frustration. "Then why is it every time we talk about it with him, he sends us back to that damn cottage. I'm going crazy, James."
James calmed down when he looked between his wife and his son, and he let out a sigh. "I know. I'm sorry, Lily."
Fleamont and Euphemia looked at the couple with a smile. But their smiles faded, and Fleamont jumped to his feet, his wand shooting out of his wand holster.
"What is it?" Euphemia demanded as her husband raced to a large cluster of runes circling a crystal-shaped pyramid.
"It's the Death Eaters," Fleamont said.
Lily and James leapt to their feet, instantly afraid.
"How did they find us, the manor is protected by us?" Euphemia demanded as she handed Harry over to his mother. The baby was already starting to cry, picking up on the tension at once.
James and Lily took out their wands, with Lily juggling Harry in her arms. "Ssshhh, it's okay Harry, it's okay," Lily choked back a sob as she began to cry as the situation got to her.
"Fleamont, lock down the Manor," one of the Potter's ancestors called.
"Yes. Lily, James, you stay with your child. They can't come in if you do that."
"James, they're right, we must stay. I don't want to go back to that stupid cottage. Do you think the Fidellius Charm is the end-all, be-all? It's too easily breached," Lily said.
"It will take time to lock down the wards, but even if we do then the Death Eaters will likely come back, with their Curse Breakers to begin cracking the wards," Fleamont cut into the argument. "Before the pair of you fly off into an argument, I'll draw the Death Eaters off."
There were instant protests from the other Potters in the room.
"Dad, no!" James snapped.
"It's the only way, James
"We don't know how many there are; you might be an amazing duellist, Fleamont, but you can't match them all," Lily held her baby to her chest.
"Fleamont, they'll kill you!" Euphemia protested.
Fleamont sighed. "I know. But if it means saving my family, then I'll do it," Suddenly he chuckled and looked around the room. "I'd always pictured myself either making love to a beautiful woman before I died or going out in a heroically futile gesture. Now I know what it will be."
"Fleamont-," Euphemia began sniffling. Instantly her husband was gently dabbing at her tears.
"No, you have to go. All four of you. I'll hold them off. And James," Fleamont turned to James, who was pale as he took in what his father was planning to do. "Look after your family. Forget your pride and leave. There's no point in dying. Now, go."
"No," Euphemia refused to leave as she was stubborn. "Fleamont, I can't lose you-."
"No, you stay with our son, Lily, and Harry," Fleamont's voice caught in his throat as he looked at the little boy, who was crying. "I don't get this. Why is he trying to kill an innocent baby? What the hell did you two do? Why is it you got involved with that old fool?"
Fleamont didn't give his son or daughter-in-law a chance to reply when he kissed his wife full on the mouth, one deep last, soulful, lingering kiss that spoke of promises made and kept, of a long, happy marriage and life together, light in the darkness. "I can't lose you," Euphemia was almost destroyed by the kiss.
"Look after Lily and James, stay safe," Fleamont said before he turned to his son and daughter-in-law. James was staring at his father, distraught. It was like the full horror of war was finally hitting him head-on despite seeing many, many atrocities recently. "Son," he opened his arms and James flew into his embrace, sobbing, "I'm proud of the man you've become despite my misgivings about how you refuse to stop fighting when you have a family, and what we've lost. Please, try to make better choices from now on."
Fleamont let go of James and turned to Lily. He smiled tenderly at her. "You know when James told me he had found a love interest and she was a muggle-born, I was delighted even if I was mortified by the antics he got up to win your affections. But we couldn't have wished for a more wonderful daughter-in-law," he smiled at her blush. "Come here, Lily."
Lily cuddled him tightly, sobbing, both mindful of the little boy nestled between them. "Don't do this. Surely we can do something to the wards?"
"The only way we can save the family now is to lock down the manor and make it unplottable. I can't do that unless I stop the Death Eaters now," Fleamont's words were punctuated by a sound like a massive gong had just been rung. The wards were not going to last much longer. But Fleamont looked down at Harry, who blinked innocently up at him while he cried. "I'm so sorry, little guy. I had hoped to see you running around, learning how to fly a broom, and to see that smile grow," Fleamont's voice choked at the end before he stepped back, and he visibly took breaths to compose himself.
"Dad-," James cried when his father headed ran for the French doors to the garden. Within seconds of his departure, there were signs of a massive fight outside. Red, yellow, orange, purple, green, and turquoise lights from spell fire came through the doors.
"Fleamont, no," Euphemia cried.
"No, don't. I-I can't take much more death!" Lily screamed, tears streaming down her face.
As if he was sensing what his grandfather's intentions were, Harry cried.
Euphemia dashed after her husband.
"Mum, no, come back," James screamed; he was already losing his father he could not lose his mother.
"James, take Lily and go. Get out," Euphemia was already casting curses everyone recognised as dark curses. James tried to dash after her when she vanished, but Lily grabbed hold of him.
"Lily," James began, but Lily shook her head. "We have to go, now James."
Harry cried.
The memories changed following the loss of Fleamont and Euphemia Potter. They saw how Harry's parents showered him with love even after their tragedies, unconditional affection. To them, he was their pride and joy. The only spark of light in a darkening world.
The audience would have screamed in horror if they could when Lord Voldemort arrived, but they could do nothing as baby Harry gabbled in uncomprehending fear as the Dark Lord murdered Lily.
For those who had known Lily and James, the whole thing was haunting. For Remus Lupin, who knew that Harry heard the last minutes of his parents' lives, it was worse witnessing some of it from the eyes of Harry himself, especially when they heard the high-pitched cold laugh from Voldemort.
But it was what happened afterwards that shocked them. They had assumed Voldemort would have just killed Harry there and then, but they were wrong.
Voldemort looked down at the baby. To their surprise, he lowered his wand and placed it back into the pocket of his robes, and leaned over the rail. Slowly, hesitantly, he ran his long taloned finger over the baby's face.
Harry was frightened, but he was also curious.
He grabbed the finger and held it.
Surprised, Voldemort gazed down at Harry for a moment before he began to speak, "I envy you, Harry Potter. I do. You had parents who loved you, who would have given their lives for you. In many ways, their courage reminds me only too strongly of your grandparents. Fleamont and Euphemia gave their lives to cover the retreat of you and your parents. It's such a pity; your aunts joined me as Death Eaters, for their reasons but I wish your parents would have joined me. You would have been safe. Happy, even, for I would never have harmed you. I'd have protected you. And it's such a shame I have to be pushed into this since I don't believe in prophecies, but if there's one thing I've learnt in the magical world, and my life, you can't leave anything to chance. It is a pity. I can see in your eyes your intellect and I can feel your power. Under different circumstances, you and I could have been friends, genuine friends. But," the Dark Lord tutted and gently removed his finger from the boy's grip, petting him gently on the head, "it's not to be." Voldemort pointed the wand straight at the boy's forehead, frowning when he saw the lightning bolt-shaped scar there. Wasn't it meant to form afterwards? Everyone was confused. "I assure you, it will be quick. Painless. AVADA KEDAVRA!"
Everyone was nearly blinded by the sinister green glare from the killing curse, but for the first time, they saw what happened afterwards. The killing curse struck Harry in the forehead, but the lightning bolt-shaped scar glowed white with the power of the Killing curse striking it, and then it rebounded on the startled Voldemort.
The Dark Lord let out a surprised screech of horror and shock, which transformed into a shriek of agony, his soul, a black, shapeless mist torn from his body, before fleeing, leaving behind a crying baby boy…
And it never stopped.
The audience saw every single moment of Harry's childhood with the Dursleys, and it was a horrible childhood. Gone was the love and laughter given to Harry by Lily and James, replaced by the hatred and angry malice of Vernon and Petunia Dursley as they methodically abused him mentally and physically, shoving him into a cupboard under the stairs, been given oversized clothes and little food.
Many in the audience would have broken down crying as they watched Harry grow from a crying baby to a child who quickly lost a lot of the light he'd had as a toddler.
Harry had tried to gain the Dursleys' love, only to receive nothing but scorn, humiliation and contempt in return. It didn't take long for the little boy to begin hating the Dursleys.
It was impossible for him not to hate them, especially when he was badly beaten whenever he showed his magic.
Hearts were broken when they watched the once happy child become a colder, angrier child who had to resort to theft after he had learnt the basics of controlling his underage, accidental magic who became darker, more sarcastic and even cruel whenever he lashed out at the muggles living in Little Whinging.
Whispers of his contempt for the muggles, and his disgust for them crossed their minds. When it came to Harry's years at Hogwarts, everyone heard his joy, his wonder at the new world of magic, which got him away from the Dursleys, although they quickly learnt he didn't revere Dumbledore and did not care one bit about the House stereotypes, he had gone along with them because he wanted for a quieter life, although Gryffindor was not the House he had wanted to go into. He had wanted to go into Ravenclaw as opposed to Gryffindor. A decision he would learn to regret, as he realised Slytherin was vastly better than Gryffindor, and he could be himself.
Time seemed to have no meaning as everyone in the courtroom watched and heard Harry's memories, listening to his thoughts as he went through his Hogwarts years; his disgust towards people like Draco Malfoy whom he thought was so pathetic it shouldn't even be allowed, every single terrifying adventure where he was convinced he was going to die while he struggled to separate fact from fiction about his parents, even if he was generally apathetic about them. Finally, the memories blissfully ended and everyone was able to move once more.
But as the memories came through, something strange happened.
It wasn't a memory at all, it looked more like a thought or a daydream, and they could see that this was not from Harry since they had seen this before; the tall, serpentine form of Lord Voldemort was standing in the graveyard holding a black potion goblet.
"Well, are you going to kill me or what?" Harry asked, wheezing as he tried to get free.
"Oh no, Harry," Voldemort said, his expression…soft. "By tonight you will cease to exist as Harry Potter."
"What?" Harry asked.
"Albania is one of my favourite countries, do you know why? In that country, they have no fear of the dark arts, and I enjoyed my time there, and I learnt something important," Voldemort whispered in his sibilant manner.
"What did you learn?" Harry asked, worry entering his voice.
"I learnt of a potion similar to the blood adoption ritual. It was created by a dark witch who wished to get revenge on an enemy by turning their children into opposites of themselves while making sure their bloodline would survive in them," Voldemort replied. "I'd heard of it during my travels, but I never saw the need; when I was a wraith after your mother performed the ritual needed to save your life, I realised I could get my revenge…and get a son as well."
Harry shook his head, "No," he whispered as he realised what Voldemort was going to do.
Voldemort smirked at his terror. "Yes, Harry. soon, Harry James Potter will die, and Harry Thomas Riddle will take his place; everything that was James Potter will be replaced by me as if I was the one who fathered you instead of James Potter. It is a shame I could not replace Lily's part as well; the perfect candidate, Bellatrix Lestrange, is currently in Azkaban, and this potion only works once, but perhaps there is a benefit for Lily's blood to remain in you, after all, it will be the ultimate insult to Lily, no? But after tonight, my blood will pass through your veins and arteries, and your personality which I know is a similar one to my own, will match it entirely. You will become my son and heir."
"You are sick," Harry whispered, staring at Voldemort aghast.
Voldemort sprang, using his wand to stun and immobilise Harry completely. Harry was forced to open his mouth while Voldemort forced the potion down his throat. Once he'd swallowed it, Harry screamed as his entire body was transformed. His features started to change; his hair, while still thick and jet black, became more manageable and his features changed as his skull transformed. Harry passed out from the effects of the potion, just as Voldemort cut him down.
Voldemort examined Harry's body, seeing how far he had changed. While physically similar, Harry was slightly taller and healthier and toned, his hair was more curled and manageable.
When Harry woke up, his eyes still emerald green, he smiled up at Voldemort. "Father?"
The word horrified the audience, especially the two remaining Marauders.
Voldemort laughed, the sound sending shivers down the spines of the audience.
The vision changed, showing the tall, serpentine form of Voldemort watching as a teenage boy duelled against several people many recognised as some of the more brutal of the Death Eaters. Voldemort was looking on with pride as the boy effortlessly held his own and fought against members of his inner circle. When the fight was over, the boy turned around and faced Voldemort.
It was the transformed Harry, and he was looking at Voldemort, not with fear, but with pride and delight.
The next vision was more vicious; it showed the transformed Harry wearing Death Eater garb but with his face unmasked and exposed, fighting alongside the Death Eaters, and shattering the morale the Light had left.
And then it was all over.
"W-What were those last three? They weren't memories," Amelia Bones demanded when she got her composure back.
"I picked up on them when I was draining Voldemort of his magic; I felt several of his thoughts pass into my mind. He might have tried to kill me in the graveyard, but he quickly came to regret some of it; I found out he admired me, that's one of the reasons why he was so complimentary towards me in the graveyard, and he wished he had done things differently. I could control my memories, but I couldn't control what Voldemort thought," Harry explained as he looked down. They didn't see his closed eyes as he mustered the energy to speak.
Finally, he lifted his gaze.
He wanted to get this out, he needed them to understand.
"I showed you those memories so then I could exorcise the stupid beliefs every one of you has about me being a fame-obsessed spoilt little prince," Harry announced as he was finally free to speak. "I'm done listening to people telling me I'm famous, coming up to me and asking for autographs, or dribbling whenever they see my scar. Enough. I wanted you to see what I've lost. I don't care how that comes across." A sneer crossed Harry's face. "How dare you put me on a pedestal and call me a hero when that was the cost? You're pathetic. You allowed Lord Voldemort to run around unchecked and you threw your survival to the wind. When I was kid, I realised survival was the ultimate goal; you either fought for it or deserved to die. Voldemort understood that better than you lot ever could. He was threatening you, us, and everyone, and you did nothing constructive. There is nothing here in this world for me. I just want to leave."
Silence fell over the entire courtroom. So many of the more sympathetic and sensitive members of the audience were gazing at Harry with sorrow as they saw his life from his point of view; they didn't know that he'd seen the deaths of his grandparents, never mind his parents, and those memories tore him apart now.
"Please…just let me go, let me make my own life. Set me free," Harry said without trying to make it into some self-righteous demand. "Let me move to a different country, and complete my education. I don't want to go to Hogwarts ever again."
Everyone was so astonished by what they'd all seen that they didn't immediately take in what he'd just said, but when Dumbledore recovered his composure while trying to hide his immediate worries about what Voldemort had wanted to do to Harry in hindsight only, the old wizard stood up from his seat, casting a spell to enhance his voice, "I'm afraid, Harry, that won't be possible."
"What do you mean?" Harry demanded.
"When you were discovered innocent," Dumbledore said, knowing why Harry didn't want to return to Hogwarts, "we, the Wizengamot instantly wrote legislation to have you removed from Azkaban; Voldemort discovered that and attacked, that's why he was there. The legislation was to have you healed and then prepared to return to Hogwarts to complete your education."
Harry's face was a mask of fury. Why was it everyone made decisions for him? Why couldn't they just let him make his path instead of meddling? "I was expelled by you, remember?"
"I do remember, Harry," Dumbledore replied, his voice and expression pained as he remembered his actions during that dark, bleak, horrible time; the fact Voldemort returned a year later without any sign before Snape revealed his true allegiances was another blow that made him bitter and regretful; he had given Snape so many chances, and all that time, the greasy potions master was fooling him. It offended him and his pride and his ability to understand people. "But this legislation was written with you in mind. Hogwarts is the school where you began your magical education, and it is where you will stay until you graduate."
"Why would you do this? Why not let me transfer?" Harry demanded. "No games, just tell me the truth!"
Dumbledore closed his eyes. "You've been through a terrible time, Harry; when Lord Voldemort rose to power and I knew who he was, I knew I could have done something…but I didn't. I swore never to let that happen again. You are a highly talented, powerful wizard, and I don't want you to turn into a Dark Lord. I have seen two highly powerful, highly talented young men fall down that path; one was Lord Voldemort and the other was Gellert Grindelwald. I do not want to add Harry Potter to that list."
Harry glared at him with contempt. "Is that it? You're doing this, controlling me and my life choices, telling me where to live, where to learn how to be a wizard, just because you fucked up twice before?" He decided to be honest himself, seeing that the old headmaster was telling the truth. "I know about my family in the MACUSA," he said, hiding back the smirk which threatened to cross his face when he saw Dumbledore's expression. "Oh, yeah, I know about them, just like I know you've spent the past…fifteen years making sure they could never take me in. Don't you think I wouldn't have done better if I went there, emigrating to America, joining the MACUSA, and going to Ilvermorny, making a fresh start somewhere else? If I did turn dark, you could be assured it was not your fault, right?"
Dumbledore didn't understand that logic. "It's academic, Harry; you will not be able to go to America to live there until after you've graduated. This legislation makes sure of that. You'll receive a copy soon, and make it official. I kept your family from you because of how important you were. There was a link between you and Lord Voldemort that had to be broken for good. If you went to America, it wouldn't have helped; at least here, I knew you were protected."
Harry mulled the old wizard's words over in his mind. He knew the old wizard might have a point, but he didn't like the fact he had been kept a living prisoner in this country all of his life when he could have had a family, people seeing him or something like that; if that had happened, he wouldn't have been isolated and wounded the way he was.
"Harry, I want to make it up to you, we all do," Dumbledore said, seeing that the boy was thinking it over.
"What makes you think you can?" Harry countered before he turned to Madam Bones. "What happens now?"
Bones looked between Dumbledore and Fudge, who nodded reluctantly. "You're free to go, Mr Potter," she said. She flicked her wand in his direction and the shackles holding him were released; she nodded to her aurors and they left.
Harry took out his borrowed wand, surprising the audience - they hadn't known he had a wand. "I have something to say first; I, Harry James Potter, do hereby swear on my life and my magic, I will not return to Gryffindor House when I return to Hogwarts School. So mote it be!"
"Harry!" Dumbledore cried.
Harry ignored the old wizard and cast a lighting charm to make sure the oath had been taken. It had.
Dumbledore was furious. "Do you know what you've just done?"
"I do. I want a fresh start, and I can't do that if I have to deal with backstabbers," Harry slid his borrowed wand away and rubbed his wrists and gazed up at Madam Bones sadly. "Am I free? Am I truly free? Will I ever be free?" He asked bitterly, in a manner that broke her heart.
Without giving her time to respond, Harry Potter stood up and walked out of the courtroom, noticing people like Fudge packing up and making a determined effort not to look at him. He didn't care. Harry walked out of the courtroom. Dumbledore and his cronies were standing in a massive crowd.
"Harry-," Sirius croaked.
Harry ignored his godfather.
"Harry, please-," Hermione whimpered, but again Harry ignored her.
If he didn't leave now, he could never get out.