From the Front Page of the Daily Prophet:
October 31, 1978
You Know Who Defeated!
Harry Potter is The Boy-Who-Lived!!
4 August 1983
Harry Potter was shaken awake by the skillet sized hand of his uncle and dragged out of his cupboard into the hallway. Harry sat up squinting at the blur that was the walrus named Vernon Dursley. "Uncle Vernon?"
"Get dressed boy, and then take our bags out to the car!" Vernon demanded.
"Yes, sir." Harry replied, nodding as he collected himself, placing his sticky taped glasses on his face and pulling his oversized shirt over his head. He'd been awakened from a dream about a big black dog that was chasing him around a yard when he was little. When the dog caught him, it gave him big wet licks on the face as Harry giggled, someone with long red hair had eventually pulled him away from the dog or was that Uncle Vernon? Harry couldn't figure out which.
Harry stumbled over his jeans, almost falling onto his face as he hurried to the suitcases sitting in the hallway. He glanced into the living room where his aunt and cousin gave him a sour stare. "Hurry up, boy!" Petunia demanded.
Harry dragged the bags to Vernon's company car, the Jaguar XJ6, Harry had never been allowed near the car before, he took a moment to admire it before getting a smack on the back of the head. "Why did you stop?" Vernon demanded.
"I-I, I thought the car looked nice." Harry replied sheepishly.
"Yeah, it is a wonder of British design. A proper car for a hard-working man like me, not layabouts and freaks like your parents."
Harry nodded meekly. "Yes, sir."
Harry carefully lifted the bags into the boot of the Jag and returned to the house, where Vernon grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. "Listen here boy, when you're in that car, you keep your hands to yourself. I don't want your grubby freakishness infecting my car, understood?"
Harry blinked in confusion. "U-Uncle Vernon, I-I thought I was going…"
"Yeah, well the foolish bint broke her leg, can't even get up to feed her stupid cats! I can't find anyone else to watch you, and I'm not leaving you with the run of the house. So, you're coming with us, you'll stay quiet, or I will tan your hide!"
"Y-yes sir…"
Harry stumbled out onto the deck of the ferry with his uncle's warning to not talk to anyone, ringing in his ears. The Dursleys were already unhappy because of the wait to board the ferry, and that had only worsened when it turned out that Dudley got seasick. Which somehow was Harry's fault, according to Vernon his freakishness had made Duddikins sick. So, while Petunia procured some seasickness pills for Dudley, Vernon led his son away from the car and ordered Harry away from them.
Harry edged closer to the railing, glancing down at the water below, he took several deep lungfuls of air, and smiled for the first time in a long time. He liked the sea breeze, he liked being out in the open air, he knew he should cherish it, because as soon as they got off the ferry he'd be shoved somewhere and not let out until the end of the trip. Harry climbed the railing to get a better look at the sea below when he felt something tug at his shirt.
Glancing back, he saw a pretty girl with big brown eyes and curly brown hair staring back at him with a stern expression on her face. "You shouldn't be climbing the railing, it's dangerous, you could fall into the sea."
Harry blushed and climbed down, to which the brown hair girl nodded. "Good, I'm Hermione, Hermione Granger," The girl announced, sticking out her hand.
"U-um, Harry, Harry Potter," He replied timidly, shaking the girl's hand.
"Are you on a trip with your mum and dad?" Hermione asked.
"Uh, n-no, I'm with my uncle and Aunt, and my cousin, Dudley," Harry explained.
"Oh, it's nice of them to take care of you," Hermione said with a smile.
"Y-yeah…" Harry replied, rubbing the back of his head, he wanted to be upset by what she'd said, but she didn't know, and he couldn't tell a stranger.
"I have a book; would you like to see it?" Hermione asked.
Harry blinked. "A book?"
"Uh huh, it's about the Eiffel Tower, that's the big one in Paris. My parents promised me we could go see it when we visit. Are you going to see Paris?"
"Um, I don't know, my uncle didn't say…" Harry replied, his hair was tousled in a sudden gust of wind, causing him to reach up and brush down his fringe.
"W-well, even if you don't, you can see it in my book!" Hermione responded brightly, grabbing Harry by the arm, and dragging him away from the railing and back towards the cabin wall. Harry winced and bit down on the inside of his cheek. That was where Uncle Vernon had twisted a few days ago because Harry had spilt hot water on the floor. It had splashed too close to Dudley and Vernon got upset and twisted on Harry's arm. Hermione paused as they sat down. "Are you okay?"
"Um, yeah, sure…" Harry replied evasively.
Hermione pulled the book out after another moment of staring and spread it across their legs, she pointed out the Eiffel Tower on the map and various titbits about the construction and its history. Harry stared in awe at the girl, who flushed with embarrassment and looked away. "S-sorry, I didn't mean… I'll go…"
Hermione was tearing up as she snapped the book shut and made to get up, only for Harry to grab her by the hand. "W-wait, why are you going?"
"Because I'm a know-it-all, that's what all the boys and girls at school say… I always know too much, and now you probably think I'm weird," Hermione replied morbidly.
"I don't think you're weird, I think you're brilliant," Harry replied shyly.
"Y-you think I'm brilliant?" Hermione asked.
"Y-yeah, you know all that stuff, it's really cool, I don't know anyone cool like you," Harry explained.
"O-oh, t-thanks…" Hermione replied.
"Hermione, where are you sweetie?" A woman called out.
"Over here mummy!" Hermione replied, running over to a beautiful brunette woman and a handsome brunette man who had emerged from the cabin. Once she'd hugged both, Hermione ran back to Harry and dragged him over to them. "Mummy, this is my new friend, Harry, Harry, this is my Mum and Dad!"
"H-hi," Harry replied shyly, he was acutely aware this was in no way what Vernon meant when he said Harry was to talk to no one.
"Hello dear, I'm Emma and this is Daniel, are you alone?"
"No, I'm with…"
"Where are you, boy?" The harsh voice of Vernon Dursley demanded as he stomped out onto the deck, Emma and Dan couldn't help but notice the way Harry flinched and glanced around frantically at the sound of the new voice.
"There you are, what…" Vernon began, before spotting the handsome couple and little girl in front of him and Harry. He straightened up and gave them a polite smile. "Good afternoon, I hope my nephew hasn't been bothering you."
"No, not at all, we were having a lovely chat, Daniel Granger," Dan replied, his eyes studying Vernon and the way he gripped on Harry's arm. "Are you on your way to France, or just passing through?"
"Vernon Dursley," Vernon replied, shaking Daniel's hand. "oh, we're staying in France, plan to take my boy to see the sights and maybe get in a little shopping for the wife. It's important to keep the wife happy."
"Yes, well, the ferry will be docking shortly, no doubt we should return to our cars so we're ready to depart," Dan observed.
"Quite right, good day to you all," Vernon said as he dragged Harry away as the three watched them go, they saw Vernon yank on Harry's arm, letting his over-long shirt rise to show the bruises on Harry's torso. Hermione gasped and made to move forward, only for the hand of her father to stop her.
"Daddy, that man is hurting Harry!" Hermione hissed.
"Yes, I know, pumpkin, we're going to help your friend, but we need to talk to someone first," Daniel explained, glancing at his wife, who nodded.
A phone call and a drive to Paris later, the three were seated in the office of an old family friend. Jean Delacour was an official in the French Government, Dan and Jean had basically grown up together, their father's having fought side by side in the French resistance during World War Two. Joseph Granger was an officer in British intelligence who was sent to help with the logistics of smuggling weapons to France. He'd saved Jean's father's life from German interrogators and kept him alive long enough to reach medical help. This made the men inseparable lifelong friends. This had extended to their sons, Dan had even met Emma while working in France, having been introduced to her by Jean's then girlfriend now wife, Apolline. Daniel had been briefly interested in Apolline, but then so were most of the men in France, but he never regretted meeting and marrying Emma.
"So, you believe there is a case of child abuse?" Jean asked, leaning back in his chair, lighting a cigarette.
"Jean, the boy was terrified, he had bruises up and down his torso and reacted in pain when Hermione grabbed him by his arm. As both a father and a medical professional, this isn't something I can ignore.."
"Unfortunately, all I can do is investigate and hand our findings back to the British. If there is a case to answer, I will of course pursue it with my colleagues in England, but that is about all I can do."
"Hopefully that will be enough…" Emma replied, sounding disheartened.
"What's the boy's name?"
Daniel glanced back at Hermione who nodded at her father. "Harry Potter."
Jean paused, blinking, looking up at Hermione, giving her a piercing stare. "Hermione, can you repeat that?"
"Harry Potter," Hermione replied.
"And… what did Harry look like?" Jean asked carefully.
"Jean, what…?" Daniel asked, glancing at Emma, who shrugged.
"Forgive me old friend, this could be very important. Please, Hermione, can you describe him?"
"Um, ok, he had black hair and glasses, and green eyes, really green eyes," Hermione replied, blushing slightly.
"Did, did Harry have any other distinguishing features?"
"Um… oh yeah! When some wind blew through his hair I saw a scar on his forehead, it looked like a lightning bolt!" Hermione described excitedly.
"Enculé de ta mere," Jean whispered quietly, slumping back in his chair.
"Jean!" Emma scolded.
"I am sorry, Emma, but… this just became more complicated," Jean said, the two stared at him but Jean shook his head. "I cannot speak about it now, when the time is right, I will explain. I must go and make arrangements with some colleagues. This has become a matter of great delicacy, please go, and enjoy your holiday. When this is settled, I will contact you at your hotel and you can join Apolline and I for dinner."
The two adults and Hermione nodded, leaving the office looking slightly baffled, but reassured that Jean would find the boy and help him. Meanwhile Jean leaned against his desk and let out a long breath of smoke. He picked up his desk phone and dialled a familiar phone number. "Yes, I want to speak to the Minister on a secure line, it's urgent." Jean said to the Minister's secretary. "Harry Potter, why is that boy living with abusive muggles? What has Dumbledore done?" He paused that thought when he was finally connected to Josephine Laurent, the current French Minister for Magic. "Josie, it's Jean, we have a situation…"
Harry sat in a bed, staring at the room around him curiously, it had been a whirlwind few hours. After being dragged away from Hermione and her parents, Vernon had boxed him around the ears and scolded him for speaking to normal decent people and exposing them to his freakishness. It had been a quiet drive through Caen to a nearby village for lunch. Dudley wanted McDonalds, but there wasn't a McDonalds until they hit the next big city, so Dudley had to settle for a burger from a local shop. He was cheered up by the fact that Harry had not received any lunch. By the time they arrived at their hotel, Harry was miserable and hungry and forced to sleep on the floor in the closet.
At least that was the plan until the French police burst into the hotel room, the Dursleys were rounded up and dragged away while Harry was escorted by a kindly blonde woman to a waiting car. Harry ducked his head to try and hide himself from the glares of his uncle and aunt as they drove away. After a quick stop for food, the car drove them to Paris, where Harry was led into Pitié-Salpêtrière University Hospital.
Harry looked up as a sharply dressed man in a silk suit entered the room, he gave Harry a gentle smile as he pulled up a chair. "Good evening, 'Arry, my name is Jean Delacour, how are you feeling?"
"Um, I'm okay, how are you, sir?" Harry asked timidly.
"I'm well, 'Arry, thank you. I'm sure you're wondering what's going on."
"Um, yes," Harry replied.
Jean nodded and leaned back in his seat. "What do you know about your parents, Harry?"
Harry frowned. "My uncle told me they died in a car accident."
"Anything else?"
"N-no…" Harry replied, looking away.
Jean dragged his chair closer to Harry. "Arry, it's ok, please tell me."
"I, I can't, I'll…"
"Harry, whatever you tell me will not get back to your aunt and uncle, I promise."
Harry nodded. "My uncle told me not to ask questions about my mum and dad."
"What would your uncle do if you asked questions?"
"I'm… not supposed to talk about it," Harry replied.
"I see, what do you know about magic?"
Harry blinked. "M-magic? I, um… it's not real."
"Has anything strange ever happened? Anything you can't explain that upset your aunt and uncle?"
Harry almost laughed. "Mister De…La core… S-sorry."
Jean just smiled. "It's okay 'Arry, call me Jean."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, Arry."
"Okay, everything I do makes them angry, I guess one time my aunt got angry at my hair and cut it all off, and the next morning it had grown back. It made them even more angry."
"What would you say if I told you I can perform magic?"
"I… don't know," Harry admitted.
Jean stood up and smiled, taking out his wand and tapping the chair. It shrunk until it turned into a puppy. Jean lifted the dog up and put it on the bed for Harry to hold as he summoned himself another chair. "M-m-mister Jean…"
Jean gently stroked the puppy's fur as he sat with Harry. "I'm a wizard 'Arry, like your parents."
"What?"
"Your parents didn't die in a car accident Harry, they were murdered by a man named Voldemort. He was a dark wizard, a bad man who used magic for evil. For reasons that have never been fully understood he hunted your parents down and killed them. He tried to kill you as well, but he didn't succeed. He used a spell that backfired and killed him, and it left you with that scar."
"Is that why I live with my uncle and aunt? Did they know what happened to my mum and dad?"
"I don't know, but I plan to find out," Jean assured him.
"Will I go back to live with them?"
Jean frowned. "No, I won't let that happen, 'Arry."
Harry stared at him, disbelievingly, but said nothing. Jean stood and walked to the door. "'Arry, there are some doctors who would like to examine you, I promise they won't hurt you. Is that ok?"
"I guess…" Harry replied, holding the puppy close.
"Someone will be in to see you soon, Arry, the doctors here are good people, you can trust them."
"Will you, will you come back to see me?"
"Yes, 'Arry."
Delacour Château, Paris France
It was very late by the time Jean made it home, he collapsed into his desk chair, letting it roll back slightly as he stared with contempt at the file folder on his desk. He smiled when Apolline entered the room, in her nightgown, she pressed a kiss against her husband's head as she sat down in his lap. "What is troubling you, my love?"
Jean rubbed his face, scowling. "We have a politically sensitive situation at the ministry, 'Arry Potter…"
"'Arry… Potter, the-boy-who-lived?"
"Oui, the same, he arrived in France this morning along with his uncle and aunt, according to them he's been living with them since his parents died."
"Why? Who would send him to live with muggles? Does he know about magic?"
"Non, according to his relatives they were left a letter and a bundle on their doorstep a few days after Voldemort died. In it, Dumbledore instructed them to take care of him until he was ready for Hogwarts. I had their recollections verified by our legilimencers. They took the memories and compared the letter to official correspondence, and it matches Dumbledore's handwriting. He left that boy in the hands of monsters…"
"Monsters?"
Jean waved his hand at the folder on the desk, Apolline rose from her seat on his lap and sat down opposite to read. Almost an hour later, Jean placed a glass of fire whiskey in front of his wife as he sat down opposite. Apolline, who wasn't prone to swearing, let out a string of profanities in French. "Why would he leave 'Arry Potter with monsters like these… you aren't going to leave him with them?!"
"Non, there is no way they're taking him back to England, Josie agreed."
"How are we going to deal with the British? They won't be happy that their celebrated war hero has been removed to France."
"We're not going to tell them, I had a quiet word to Amelia, as far as she can determine, his documentation has been sealed. By order of the Chief Warlock."
"More Dumbledore interference…" Apolline commented bitterly.
"Oui, but it means all of our dealings will be with the muggles."
"Who will take care of him once we've removed him from his relatives?" Apolline asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
"You did always want another child…"
5 August 1983
Vernon Dursley glared at the man sitting across from his family, as he studied his notes. "You have no idea where the boy, Harry Potter, went?"
"No, we woke up this morning and he was gone, no one saw him, he disappeared, as I told your colleagues!" Vernon bellowed angrily. What he wasn't saying is that neither he nor Petunia had asked or searched, it was only when they arrived in Caen that the matter was raised at all. They'd planned to stay in France for at least a week, but Vernon hated being in a foreign country, he wanted to return home. Next time Petunia suggested taking a holiday, it would be to Blackpool.
"Yes, I understand, but you're leaving France with one less member of your family, you can understand how that would concern us."
"I don't care about your concerns, the boy never appreciated what he had, if he thinks he can do better on the streets, so be it. Petunia, we're leaving," Vernon stated, getting up from his chair and storming out, with Petunia and Dudley dutifully following behind.
"I can't imagine why the boy would want to run away from you…" The customs officer muttered once they were gone.
On the other side of the one-way glass, Jean Delacour stared at the space Vernon Dursley had occupied with disgust. "Will the memory charms hold under scrutiny?"
"Depends on what you mean by scrutiny, sir," The obliviator replied. "A cursory scan will confirm the memories we've implanted, but no amount of modification can hide the presence of a memory charm. Though to break it would cause significant harm to the Dursley's. Up to and including traumatic brain injury."
"How would you tell the difference…?" Jean muttered.
6 August 1983
Harry glanced up from his meal as someone knocked on the door to his room, he tightened the grip on his fork as he spoke. "Come in."
"Good morning 'Arry, are you well?" Jean asked as he entered the room.
Harry visibly relaxed when he saw Jean, the doctors were very nice, but they were also guarded in what they would say to the young boy. Harry had an ingrained fear of being taken back to his relatives, everything about his life said that at any moment this could be ripped away from him. "I-I'm fine, sir."
"Not sir, just Jean, you are neither my servant nor a subordinate, if you call me sir, I will start calling you Mister Potter."
"O-oh, no, j-just Harry, s-Jean," Harry replied sheepishly.
"Better, the doctors say you are recovering well, and should be ready to leave in about a week." Jean explained.
"What happens after that?" Harry asked, fearfully.
Jean smiled. "That's what I'm here to talk to you about, first, I'd like to introduce you to two very precious people, would that be ok, Arry?"
Harry nodded. "Ok."
"'Arry, I'd like to introduce you to my wife, this is Apolline Delacour," Jean explained as a stunning blonde entered the room.
Harry was dazzled by her long flowing hair and bright smile; he was also enchanted by her sparkling sapphire eyes as he stared slack jawed at the beautiful woman in front of him. "Uh…"
Apolline giggled. "I think he likes me."
"'Arry, come back to us, Arry," Jean said, giving Harry a slight nudge with his fingers.
"Perhaps I should…" Apolline began before Harry shook his head.
"Um, s-sorry, I don't know what happened, it's lovely to meet you Missus Delacour," Harry said, glancing at Jean. "I've been practicing."
"I can tell," Jean replied, glancing curiously at his wife who raised an eyebrow at him.
"'Arry, there's a specific reason I wanted to introduce you to my wife," Jean began, sitting down on the bed. "Your relatives have been sent back to England; their memories have been altered so they believe you ran away in the night. That is the story they will tell if asked, they'll never know the real reason, so they'll never bother you again."
Harry paled as Apolline reached out and took his hand. "You should never have been left with those people in the first place, 'Arry, you deserve to live with a loving family. People who will care for you and raise you right, we would like to be the family, if you'd let us?"
The colour in Harry's face immediately returned as he stared at them, disbelievingly. "W-why?"
Apolline glanced at Jean and then back to Harry. "Because we want to help you, why else would we ask?"
"No one has ever wanted to help me before, everyone thinks I'm a worthless freak, I didn't even have a name until I went to school. When my teacher sent me home with a note asking why I didn't know my own name, Uncle Vernon got angry…"
"'Arry, we want to help you because it's the right thing to do. No child should be treated the way they treated you, we want to give you the opportunity for a new life in a loving home. We're not going to try to replace your parents, that would disrespect their memory, but we would like to take care of you. If you decide you want to live somewhere else, we can find others who will gladly welcome you into their home."
Harry shook his head as tears welled in his eyes. "N-no, that's ok, I want to, th-this is so new… I don't know how to feel."
Apolline reached forward and pulled Harry into a hug as he began crying into her chest. The two sat there for a few minutes as Jean stepped out, finding that his daughter had been peeking at them from the corridor. Her sapphire blue eyes, so reminiscent of her mother, looked up at her father with worry and trepidation. "Papa, why is he upset, isn't he excited to live with us?"
Jean led Fleur down the corridor a few paces, the two sitting on one of the nearby bench seats. "'Arry has had a difficult life, his relatives were… unkind to him, they never wanted him to stay with them, they were afraid of magic."
"That's silly, magic is wonderful," Fleur stated firmly.
"To us, yes, to someone who has never seen it, it's frightening," Jean explained.
"That's not 'Arry's fault, you can't choose whether to be born with magic, it's just part of who you are," Fleur said.
"Oui, but not everyone understands or cares," Jean replied.
"If they didn't want Arry, that's their loss, he's part of our family now, I am going to show him that he is wanted and cared about," Fleur stated, nodding her head decisively.
Jean chuckled. "I'm sure you will, flower, come along, let's go introduce you."
Eventually Apolline moved back and got a handkerchief out of her pocket and wiped Harry's face clean. "There, all better."
Harry sniffed but smiled. "Thank you."
"You're welcome Arry, now, there's one other person in our family I'd like you to meet, would you like to see them now?"
Harry nodded and Jean re-entered the room with a beautiful young girl, a mini-Apolline. "'Arry, this is my daughter, Fleur, Fleur, this is Arry, he's joining our family, as of today."
Fleur gave Harry a dazzling smile. "Bonjour, Arry."
"H-hi…" Harry replied, blushing.