Potter Luck

Fuck.

No one warned him how bloody bad smashing through a Fidelius charm would rattle his brain. The wards were meant to be bypassed. They couldn’t be. It was impossible. Yet here Harry bloody Potter was, bully for me. Harry scoffed to himself.

He shook off the disorienting mental shove waves and took a moment to observe his surroundings. The Burrow. His favorite place to be, aside from Hogwarts of course. It looked as shabby and loved as ever. The order was inside, probably in the midst of an argument about him. If Harry’s intelligence source was correct, and it tended to be, the order had all but given up on him already. Written him off as a list cause. So much for The Chosen One or whatever bullshit prophecy was made. He scoffed again. How the predictions of a drunk and actions of two mad men could upend a life never ceased to amaze Harry… not that any in the order knew of Harry’s knowledge of the prophecy, or of Voldemort's lack of interest in it, but that’s neither here nor there.

Harry watched the front door with rapt attention. Any moment now the order would come bursting out, wands drawn, ready to stun first and ask questions later. If Mad Eye led the charge, a stunner would get him off easy. Even as he laughed at that thought, the door burst open and—

Oh.

Sirius.

His dark hair fell in thick, shining waves. His sharp, aristocratic features were striking, and his face glowed with health that Harry had never before seen on the man. This was not the man Harry met in secret, deep within the mountain caves surrounding Hogsmeade. This was not the man who survived on rats and stolen food. This was Lord Black. The head of the most noble and most ancient house. This was Sirius Orion Black, pureblood, and promising figurehead in the Wizengamot, full of a youthfulness that Harry had never seen before.

Harry drank in his image. Black dueling robes moved silkily and silently as he moved with the grace and power of an expert duelist— which if memory serves, Sirius was the best of his age. Harry felt like a starving man, and Sirius his last meal.

Their eyes locked and

Oh.

It was like coming home.

With great strength, Harry tore his gaze from Sirius. Mad-Eye bloody Moody and Albus fucking Dumbledore followed Sirius, wands pointed immediately at Harry’s chest. It took more effort than he thought possible to keep from rolling his eyes, especially at Moody’s command to drop his wand.

“Right, a stunner, how absolutely terrifying. I doubt I could make it through,” honestly, does he think after the amount of time spent with the Death Eaters stupify is going to have any affect on me whatsoever. Harry worked to keep the derision from his voice, it came out hollow instead.

Harry, my boy, you must understand how this looks,” Dumbledore said, a note of apology on his face that could not have been more of a lie. Judging from the tightening around Sirius’s eyes, Harry wasn’t the only one more than jaded with these champions of light.

“If you think for a moment I’m going to lower my wand with 10 others pointed at me, you’re barking,” Harry spoke plainly. He was confident that if it came to it, he’d be able to get away. He was no longer a 14 year old boy, after all.

It wasn’t until he answered Sirius’s identifying questions that Harry was struck with how different he probably sounded, let alone looked and acted, from the boy they all had last known. He hadn’t been that boy in a long time.

But oh how good it felt to be pulled into Sirius’s arms. Harry flinched, unwilling to sully his godfather’s pristine robes with his own filth and blood, not that it was all his blood, but you get the idea.

Harry made the proper responses and necessary reactions, tuning most of the exchange out. If he had to listen to Dumbledore’s attempted manipulations anymore, Harry worried he’d snap. He was eternally grateful for Sirius’s not so veiled threats for no contact.

Finally, finally, Sirius led him away from the burrow. Between one blink and the next, they arrived in the DMLE facing a door that read

Amelia Bones
Department head
Order of Merlin first class

Sirius gave Harry’s arm a squeeze before knocking twice on the door. A voice within called for them to enter. Harry steeled himself and mentally prepared for the inevitable interrogation.

“It’ll all be okay, Harry. I am so glad you’re home. We’ll be out of here as soon as possible,” and with that, Sirius pushed the door open and guided Harry in.

They were met with a sharp intake of breath. Sirius immediately held up his hand.

“Madam Bones, I’m sorry to show up unannounced, however I think the situation warrants it,” Sirius gestured to Harry. “Obviously Harry has been found, or rather he found us.”

Amelia Bones was a severe looking woman, not unlike Professor McGonagall. She had curly chestnut colored hair and intense brown eyes watched the pair closely.

“Obviously, indeed Lord Black,” she eyed Harry seriously, a note of concern in her eyes. “Harry, I am so glad that you are no longer captive. Please sit, I’m afraid I have to ask you some questions.” Sirius led Harry to a chair and helped him sit. He then pulled the second chair closer so that he could rest a hand on Harry’s shoulder. It was a comforting, grounding presence.

“Are you injured?” Amelia eyed his bloodied appearance apprehensively.

“No, ma’am. Most of this isn’t mine.” Harry gestured to the blood soaking his robes. Amelia frowned.

“I’m glad that you’re unhurt,” she pulled a small basin from a nearby drawer and set it on her desk. Harry recognized it as a pensieve. “This is needed to start the formal questioning. It’s a special type of pensive used by the DMLE. It can independently record memories to ensure they are unbiased and free from tampering. Only myself and Rufus Scrimgeour have direct access to what it stores. All others need clearance from me,” she explained. She pulled out her wand and waved it in a complicated pattern over the liquid within. With a final flourish, the pensive started glowing. Amelia nodded, satisfied at the result.

“Now then, today is August 29th 1995. I am Amelia Susan Bones, I will be conducting an interview in conclusion of the Harry Potter Missing Persons Case. The time is 6:49 in the evening and the interview is being conducted in my office. Undergoing the interview is Harry James Potter. Witness and guardian Lord Sirius Orion Black is also present. Lord Black, do I have your consent to question Heir Potter who, as of 1 August, is under your protection, claimed by the House of Black?”

Harry cocked an eyebrow at Sirius. Claimed by the house indeed. Sirius smiled easily at him.

“I give my consent for you to question Heir Potter, however I maintain the right to cease questioning at any time.”

“Thank you.” Amelia I inclined her head at Sirius before focusing all of her attention on Harry.

“Heir Potter,” Amelia began, taking in a breath.

“Harry is fine, ma’am,” Harry said quickly. Madam Bones smiled gently. She looked a lot like her niece, Susan. Harry hadn’t interacted too much with the Hufflepuff, always too busy maintaining house loyalty, for reasons that now seemed as pointless and detrimental than ever.

“Okay Harry. Can you please state your full name,”

“Harry James Potter,”

“Do you attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?”

“Yes.”

“What year will you be starting on September the first?”

“I will be starting my fifth year,”

“Thank you Harry. Those were to establish identity and age. This next part will get into what actually happened. If things get too difficult please let me know and we can take a break.” Harry nodded his understanding. “Please describe the events of June the 24th as well as you can remember?”

No matter how much time passed, Harry would never forget that night. No amount of occlumency could block it from his memory.

“It was the day of the third task. Everything seemed normal, or as normal as it can be when you’re competing in a fatal tournament against your will. I entered the maze with Cedric and we quickly parted ways at the first fork. I met several obstacles along my way, but nothing unexpected. I saw Cedric again after he battled the blast ended skrewts, and a third time when Victor Krum was attacking him. I assumed he was under the Imperious Curse, as we had all previously gotten on fine with him,” Amelia nodded in confirmation.

“I stunned him, and Cedric and I continued on in separate ways. When I saw the cup, Cedric was close on my heels. I grabbed the cup just before he reached it, but instead of the tournament ending, I was transported to an old graveyard. I knew instantly that something was wrong,” Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It would be easier to plow through as quickly as possible.

“Wormtail, Peter Pettigrew, sorry, was there. As soon as I landed he disarmed me and bound me to a headstone. He performed a ritual and using bones of Voldemort’s father, Pettigrew’s own hand, and my blood,” Harry rolled up his sleeve to show a jagged scar the length of his right forearm. Sirius made an angry sound at it and clenched Harry’s shoulder compulsively.

“The last thing he added was Voldemort’s host body. When the ritual was complete, Voldemort had risen. He summoned his Death Eaters and spoke with them all, punishing those whose loyalty had faltered in wake of his disappearance. He gave Pettigrew a new hand as a reward for his servitude. He took my wand, unbound me and,” Harry’s voice faltered with remembered pain. “And decided to demonstrate his returned power on me.”

Sirius’s hand moved from his shoulder to his back where it tracked in small, comforting circles.

“I’m sorry Harry, but I must ask if you are able to elaborate on that,” She really did sound apologetic. Harry clenched and unclenched his hand.

“He kept me under the cruciatus until I lost consciousness,” Harry spoke through gritted teeth. Just thinking of that night brought back the raw and blinding pain that had flayed him alive. Madam Bones’ eyes widened almost comically. Sirius’s hand momentarily stilled. Harry could feel eyes burning into him, but did not look. The hand started moving again.

“What do you remember next?” She asked gently. Harry sighed.

“I woke up in some sort of room, it was more of a cell than anything. My hands were chained to the ceiling, but the manacles were covered in runes, so I couldn’t break out of them, no matter how much magic I pushed through them,” Harry’s wrists still bore the scars earned from countless days trying to escape.

“Did anyone come to talk to you while you were chained in that room?” Harry laughed, but it wasn’t a joyous sound.

“Talk? No. Bellatrix Lestrange— she’s no longer in Azkaban by the way— visited me quite often. As you can imagine, she wasn’t there for conversation.” Sirius drew a quick inhale but otherwise was still. Harry continued. “Her husband as well. Obviously Voldemort couldn’t keep himself away. I think he was too proud that he had finally got ahold of me after all these years. Occasionally someone came in the patch me up when they were done ‘playing’,”

“Was this person acting on Voldemort’s orders?”

“No,” he decided to answer honestly while he could.

“Who was it?” Amelia asked almost eagerly, clearly excited to have a sympathizer in the Death Eater ranks.

“I cannot say,” Harry said evenly, at her narrowed eyes he continued. “For their safety, I will not reveal their identity. They risked more than their life to help me, and I will never take that for granted and betray their confidence.” There was a deep finality to Harry’s voice that Harry knew would shock the two listening.

“I could administer Veritaserum,” Amelia said weakly.

“You could try,” Harry shrugged with a dangerous glint in his eyes, and the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“Very well. I will not push the issue. We’ll just remain grateful that there was someone in your corner to get you through. It is clear that they have your loyalty.” Harry made no response so she continued with her questioning: “Were you ever moved to a different location?”

“Yes.”

“What was this other location like?”

“It was a larger room, there was a window and a cot. Seemed like quite a step up from the dungeons,” Harry mused.

“Why would he do that?” Harry shrugged again.

“The person who had been helping me hadn’t visited in a long time. I worried that they had gotten caught or had befallen some accident. Bellatrix got a little too excited one day and landed a cutting curse a little too deep across my chest. She left me there bleeding out. It had been a long time since I had last eaten or had anything to drink, so I was already weak. I bled out, almost to the point of no return when Voldemort came in. He was furious that she had almost killed his prized possession. I believe that I was moved sometime after that.”

“You believe?” Amelia promoted.

“As I said, I was hardly better off than dead. Aside from blood loss, infection had set it because Bellatrix can never leave well enough alone after inflicting as much damage as she can,” Harry almost sounded exasperated, his outward demeanor may seem calm and unaffected but inside his thoughts were stuck on all the ways Bellatrix Lestrange like to humiliate and violate her victims.

“So Voldemort saved your life after that?” Amelia’s eyebrows were lost in her bangs.

“Yes. Ironic isn’t it? The Boy Who Lived, saved by his would-be-murderer, Lord Voldemort himself” Harry couldn’t hold back his scoff. Sirius gave a surprised laugh.

“After you were moved to a new location, did he continue to visit you?” Unlike Sirius, Amelia chose to ignore Harry’s previous comment, opting instead for a somewhat disturbed look.

“Occasionally, but much less than before,” A half truth.

“What about the other Death Eaters?”

“Yes I still saw Death Eaters, though they remained masked and I doubt if any of them were Bellatrix.”

“The person who had been helping you? Did you ever see them again?”

“Yes they did. They continued to help as much as the situation would permit,” They more than helped, more than the situation permitted. A warmth filled Harry’s heart unexpectedly. He shook it off before it affected his interview.

“How long would you say you were held in the cell before moving to this new location?”

“It’s hard to say,” Harry hesitated, deciding how much he could explain to Amelia and therefore to the rest of the ministry. “Time passed very differently where they held me.”

“What do you mean?” Harry mulled over the question before answering.

“Well, I’m not quite sure on the specifics myself, however from what I was told, Voldemort kept me contained within some sort of runic circle. I existed outside of our normal time. I experienced more time than what passed on the outside,” Harry explained choppily.

“So you’re… older now? I’ve never heard of such a thing, Amelia mused.

“I believe it is an ancient Egyptian spell, but not one that the ministry would approve of, I’m sure,” Harry explained.

“No, I think not. Why did he use it though? What was his purpose in keeping you in such a state? And do you have any idea how much time passed for you?”

“I don’t know,” Harry answered simply. “I can only guess that Voldemort hoped the longer I was his captive, alive only by his mercy, the more willing to work with him I would be,” Harry answered honestly. It truly was a wonder why Voldemort had first made the decision.

Amelia frowned, and Harry felt Sirius shifting beside him. The idea that Voldemort sought to convince Harry to work with him rather than oppose him seemed to not sit well with either of them.

“Before you ask, no. I did not agree to join him or whatever else you might be thinking. Here,” he rolled up his left sleeve this time to reveal an unmarked arm. Amelia visibly relaxed at the sight.

“Thank you, Harry. I just have a few more questions for you, and then you will be free to go. How did you manage to get away?”

“I didn’t do it alone. I had a lot of help from that same person. I don’t particularly want to go into the details, nor do I think it’s necessary for me to do so. I will say, this was not a last minute decision. We had been working on this escape plan for months. Well, months for me anyways,” Harry frowned at the time difference. “Nevertheless, I was able to break out of the time sphere, recapture my wand, and apparate away. It was not as tidy as we had hoped, but I made it out and my friend remains alive and unsuspected, so that counts for a win in all the ways that really matter,” Harry concluded with a note of defiance, as if daring Amelia to disagree with his conclusion.

“I quite agree, Harry. It sounds as though you have been through a terrible ordeal. School is starting in hardly three days, do you wish to postpone your return to Hogwarts? No one would hold it against you if you did.” Harry shook his head.

“No. Getting back to normal, or whatever normal is for me now, is important. I’d like to go back and put this behind me as much as possible.” Amelia smiled at him, seeming to approve of his decision.

“Excellent. That concludes our interview.” Amelia tapped the basin rather harshly with her wand, and it returned to normal. She returned it to its place within her drawers before continuing.

“You must understand that I cannot keep your return a secret. The rest of the wixen world has been clamoring for updates and demanding we turn over every loose stone until you were found. How would you like to proceed?” She looked to Sirius for an answer this time. He cleared his thought and his hand returned to Harry’s shoulder.

“I think the best course of action is for the ministry to release a statement, in which myself and Harry will make a statement regarding Harry’s return and his well-being. We will first need to approve everything stated in the article, of course”

“Of course,” Amelia agreed with an incline of her head. “I will alert the proper channels and I’ll have my assistant draft a press release within the hour. I think it best to announce it in the prophet tomorrow.” With that, Amelia stood. Sirius did likewise and helped Harry to his feet. A wave of exhaustion hit him as he did so.

Amelia came around the side of her desk to extend a hand to Harry. He grasped it, again seeing the same strength and stoicism that McGonagall has. It made Harry yearn for Hogwarts.

“I’m glad you escaped, Harry. You mean a lot of things to a lot of people, but above all that, you’re a wizard that deserves to live a happy and normal life.” Harry felt genuine gratitude at her words. So few people got it. So many were blinded by the fame and adventures. No one realized how badly Harry wanted to just be Harry.

“Thank you Madam Bones, unfortunately I think a normal life is out of the cards for me,” Harry attempted a smile, not realizing how much those words would sting.

“Thank you Amelia. We’ll be in touch I'm sure. Now we need to get this young man home. We have a date with a healer in the morning,”

“I’m glad to hear it. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do for you moving forward.” Harry nodded and let Sirius lead him out of the office and to the floo.

“I suppose this is where you send me back to the Dursleys?” Harry tried, and failed, to keep the bitterness out of his voice. Sirius smiled mischievously.

“Of course not. You’ve been claimed by the house. I told you we’re going home. To my home. It’s yours too if you want it.” Harry couldn’t help but grin at the older man. So much has changed in the time Harry was gone. He couldn’t help but marvel at the man who stood before him. Never in a million years did Harry think he would see his godfather so young and healthy and alive.

If it took Harry’s capture to get here, he would go through it all again in a heartbeat.