679I haven't abandoned 'Strange Visitors' but I have hit a massive block, so I thought I'd share this in the meantime. I hope you enjoy it.
Edit 07/04/21: One note, because it is going to be important, this story will feature Tamil Harry and James Potter, and Black Hermione Granger. No other characters' ethnicities are specified in canon, and therefore I am going to write a fic that actually explores the diversity present in the UK. Before anyone starts yelling about the films, remember that these are the same films that gave Harry blue eyes and Lily brown ones, and so aren't exactly reliable sources. Frankly, I do not care what people say about canon any more anyway; JKR gave us this world, but has proven to be a bigoted, antisemitic, racist TERF, and this is our sandbox now. If you don't like it, please go elsewhere. To be quite honest, if you can accept Harry Potter being the reincarnation of Salazar Slytherin, but can't accept him being a POC, then maybe you've got bigger problems.
To everyone else, I hope you enjoy the fic as much as I've enjoyed writing it.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc.
Harry Potter woke up two weeks before his ninth birthday and decided he was going to leave home.
This in itself wasn't particularly unusual. Harry, like many young boys, had often thought about leaving home. After all, being able to go wherever they wanted, without anyone telling them what to do, was the dream of many children.
Harry Potter probably thought about it more often than most though. He thought about it whenever his uncle shouted at him, or whenever his aunt sneered at him. He thought about it when his cousin and his gang chased him so they could try to stuff his head down the toilet, and whenever his teachers looked at him with vapid expressions of pity.
In short, Harry Potter had thought about it nearly every day for the past seven years.
The difference between Harry and all the other children with similar dreams was that Harry was perfectly capable of carrying making his dream a reality.
Harry had been planning his escape for a long time, but recent events had forced his hand. It wasn't unusual for Harry to get far better reports from his teachers than his cousin Dudley. It also wasn't difficult, considering Dudley had the intelligence of a juvenile rabbit, but for some reason Vernon and Petunia had never gotten used to it. They had taken to ignoring it after even their most severe threats failed to get Harry to dumb himself down, but this year they couldn't ignore the rather pointed note attached to Harry's report from his headmistress. Miss Pevensie was old but she wasn't stupid, and she wasn't blind enough to miss the differences between loud, spoiled Dudley and his little ghost of a cousin. Harry had been sent to his cupboard the second Vernon had seen the letter, but his uncle's shouts about child services and reports of abuse had been impossible to ignore.
Harry didn't care. Maybe the authorities would help, but they never had before and he had no intention of taking his chances.
So the next morning, Harry decided that enough was enough. He left his schoolbooks behind, instead packing the few tolerable clothes he possessed into his small rucksack. There was nothing else he cared to take; everything he owned had been broken by Dudley before being passed on to him. He dressed in his school uniform, and looked round his cupboard for the last time.
Really, Harry hadn't had to stay in the cupboard. Young as he was, there were plenty ways he could have persuaded or intimidated his relatives into giving him Dudley's spare room. In the end though he hadn't bothered with the effort. He had never been planning on staying long, and the less the Dursleys knew about what he could do the better. More importantly, the less the other authorities knew about his abilities the better.
Harry wasn't stupid. He might know very little about how his world worked in this time, but no society would be so idiotic as to leave children with their power unsupervised. Any intentional displays of magic would undoubtedly attract attention, and that would lead to questions that Harry had no desire to answer.
For example, how he knew about magic at all.
Harry snorted softly. That question alone could cause utter chaos. Much better to wait until he had more information
A sharp rap on the door woke Harry from his thoughts.
"Hurry up, or you'll be late, boy."
Harry's lip curled, but he opened the door without comment. Petunia sneered down at him. "You've missed breakfast, but that can't be helped. We're leaving now."
Harry said nothing. He just met her pale blue eyes with his green ones until the sneer faded into something more uncertain. Petunia's lips thinned, but instead of scolding him, she just shook her head sharply. "Don't be late."
She hurried Dudley out the door with far more haste than normal, and Harry was gratified to see a gleam of fear and confusion in her eyes as she glanced back over her shoulder. Then the door slammed shut and Harry was alone in the house.
Vernon hadn't been happy, but after Dudley threw four tantrums in a row about the freak walking into school with him, he had agreed that Harry would leave five minutes after Dudley and Petunia each morning. Harry hadn't particularly minded; any time away from Dudley was fine by him, and he had been amused by how quickly the teachers picked up on their unusual situation, but he appreciated the arrangement now.
It was tempting to leave a suitable farewell for the Dursleys, but Harry resisted the impulse. He wanted as good a head start as he could get before the chaos started. Not that it really mattered, considering where he was going, but it would draw things out for his charming relatives. Instead, Harry headed up to the attic.
One of the first things Harry could remember was Petunia telling him never to go into the attic. Naturally, it was one of the first things Harry had done, once he was strong enough. The place was full of Vernon and Petunia's rubbish, but there were a few items of interest. Harry shoved a stack of Dudley's old pre-school work out the way until he spotted the box of dusty photo albums poking out from under a bag of old clothes. He was keen to leave as soon as possible, but he had never been able to resist the urge to take a look.
Harry carefully picked up one of the more faded albums and opened it. Two smiling Muggles beamed up at him, and Harry felt his own lips twitch up. The photo was in black and white, but he knew from other photos that his grandmother's eyes were exactly the same colour as his own. Both of his grandparents were white though, so Harry's own skin and hair colour had presumably come from his father's side. That was all Harry knew about his father, but he pushed that thought to one side. There would be information about him somewhere, and Harry had no intention of stopping until he found it.
Reluctantly, Harry set that album aside and found the more recent ones. These ones were all in colour, and there was a familiar tightness in Harry's chest as he looked at his mother's face. If he hadn't found these photos, Harry wouldn't even have known her name. He thanked every god he knew that someone had recorded the date and people present on the back of each photo. There were some of Lily and Petunia as small children, sometimes with a tiny wrinkled old woman who Harry assumed was his great-grandmother, and then there were some of Lily as a young lady, laughing and carefree, with her whole future before her.
Harry's fingers trembled as he traced his mother's face. What had happened? He knew absolutely nothing about their lives. He didn't know why they had met their deaths by the Killing Curse, if that was the green light in his nightmares was, or why he had been placed with people who might be his blood relatives but still loathed him simply for who he was. He didn't know why none of their friends had ever tried to check on him.
Harry didn't have answers to those questions. But he was going to find out.
For now though, he had wasted enough time. He raided the albums for his favourite pictures, and placed the photos carefully in a plastic wallet he'd taken from Dudley's school supplies. He needed them more than Petunia did. Harry cast a final quick glance round, then settled his rucksack more comfortably on his shoulders and closed his eyes.
It wasn't the best idea he had ever had. Apparition was tricky even for a grown wizard. Harry remembered all too vividly the last time he had tried it at this young age, but he forced the memories away with a shudder. Thinking about that wouldn't help. He was tempted to wait a few more months, just to let his magic stabilise, but he dismissed the thought almost immediately. The situation with the Dursleys had become intolerable, and Harry knew he could do this. He had before after all.
So Harry Potter summoned up all the magic he possessed and concentrated on the one place he could truly call home.
There was the familiar awful-wonderful twisting wrenching bending stretching sensation then Harry landed on cold stone and his mind burst into song.
'Welcome home, Salazar!"
Salazar Slytherin, founder of Hogwarts, now nearly nine year old Harry Potter closed his eyes and let the magic of Hogwarts surround him. Wards wrapped around him as easily as if a day had passed rather than a thousand years, and tears fell unheeded as Hogwarts' love and respect soothed his battered mind and soul.
'Thank you,' he finally managed. 'It is good to be home.'
Hogwarts seemed to hum louder, and for a minute Harry let himself just bask in the warmth of her welcome. It had been so long since anyone had treated him with more than wary pity.
But there was something he had to know.
'Have any of the others been here?'
There was a heavy sigh and Harry's heart sank even before the soft whisper sounded. 'Only you.'
Harry drew in a deep, shuddering breath. Where could they be? He couldn't do this without them. He rubbed fiercely at his eyes and tried to think. He had made no plans to be reborn after his death, and he wouldn't have had time to carry out any rituals anyway, considering the nature of his demise. That meant that someone, be it a god, the fates, or even magic itself, had intervened.
Whoever it was, they had to have brought the others back too. Harry didn't know what was going on, but he did know that he couldn't do it alone. He needed his family.
But if they weren't here, where were they?
'They may not be old enough,' Hogwarts pointed out. 'Witches and wizards do not come here until they are eleven now, and you are younger than that.'
Harry sat back and nodded. 'You're right. I just hope they get here soon.' If they didn't... His mind shied away from the possibility.
'The new school year starts in six weeks,' Hogwarts offered. 'One or all of them might arrive then.'
'I hope so,' said Harry quietly.
Hogwarts wrapped his mind in another gentle hug, and Harry leaned into the contact. 'You are not alone, Salazar. You will never be alone.'
Harry smiled. He knew he was right. He took a deep breath, then got to his feet. He couldn't sit around waiting for his friends for the next six weeks. He might be only a child, but there was still plenty he could do. Especially here in Hogwarts.
There was one immediate matter to deal with. 'What happened in here?'
Harry had decided to land in the Chamber of Secrets out of sheer practicality. He hadn't been sure when the holidays for Hogwarts would be, and hadn't wanted to risk landing in the middle of a crowded corridor. As the Chamber was hidden, and sealed to any but a Parselmouth, it had seemed the most suitable location.
Which it was. It was also half flooded with water.
'Ah,' said Hogwarts. There was a clear note of embarrassment in her voice. 'Well, things got a little complicated when the Muggles invented plumbing. One of Selene's descendants had to rework the entire system.'
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. 'Right. I'll deal with that later. What about Issa?'
'She is well,' Hogwarts assured him. 'But she is very old, and sleeps a great deal.'
Harry smiled. 'I'm not surprised. I'll wake her once I settle in.' He looked around and sighed. 'Looks like I'll be staying in the Room of Requirement after all.' He would make time to come down and visit Issa later, and he would also have to make sure his wards on the rest of the Chamber had held. There were things down here that were never meant to see the light of day again.
But that could wait for another day. Harry climbed to his feet, picked up his rucksack, and willed himself to the Room of Requirement.
Harry reappeared in an exact replica of his old chambers, and smiled. 'Thank you.'
'My pleasure,' Hogwarts replied.
Harry let out a contented sigh as he shrugged out of his rucksack. He had missed Hogwarts, and he had missed having his own space, and it was so good to be home. 'Have any students found this place yet?'
'Not for many years,' said Hogwarts with a chuckle. 'Even the teachers have only ever stumbled across it by accident.'
Harry smirked. 'Rowena will be pleased to hear that.' He started taking his clothes out of his rucksack, then paused. Looking at the stained and baggy cast-offs made him think of the Dursleys, and he had no intention of thinking about those people unless he absolutely had to. 'Do we still keep spare robes?'
There was a slight pause before Hogwarts replied. 'We do. But, Salazar, there is a house-elf outside who wishes to speak with you.'
Harry closed his eyes for a moment. 'I should have expected that.' He set the clothes down on the bed and took a deep breath. 'Let them in.'
Hogwarts touched his mind in a brief second of comfort, then the door swung open to reveal an old house-elf. He was dressed in a clean tea towel with the Hogwarts crest on it, and his eyes went as wide as saucers when he caught sight of Harry. Harry smiled and knelt down so they were at eye level.
"Hello," he said gently. "Please come in. What is your name?"
The house-elf visibly swallowed and took a few steps into the room. "I is called Pento," he said.
Harry nodded. "It's nice to meet you, Pento. Why are you here?"
Pento hesitated, then lifted his head to meet Harry's gaze properly. "We house-elves felt the old Master return," he said clearly. "We did not understand, but we are here to serve, and serve we will, if that is Master's wish."
For a moment, Harry could only stare at him. The house-elves were bound to Hogwarts, and so Harry had guessed that they would be alerted to his presence, but he hadn't expected them to recognise him. Pento's ears fell. "Have we displeased, Master?" he asked tentatively.
Harry blinked and shook his head. "No, Pento. Not at all." He took a breath. "Thank you for your service. All I ask is that you do not tell anyone that I am here."
Pento nodded vigorously. "I understand, Master." He gave Harry a warm smile. "All of Hogwarts is happy that you is home."
Harry suddenly found it impossible to speak around the lump in his throat. "I'm very happy to be home too, Pento."
Pento tilted his head to one side, and studied Harry for a long minute. "Master needs looking after," he said suddenly. "Master has not been happy in a long time." His eyes narrowed as they took in Harry's clothes. "Pento will send elves to help Master." He bowed very low, then disappeared with a loud crack.
Harry sat back on his heels and shook his head. He had forgotten how protective house-elves could be of masters they felt deserved it. Not for the first time he mentally thanked Helga for being so passionate in her advocacy of house-elf rights. He, Godric and Rowena had learned easily as much from her as she had from them. None of them had treated house-elves badly to begin with, all their families having taught them better than that, but Helga was something else.
The thought of his friends sent a sharp pang through Harry's chest. He missed them more than he could say. His hands curled into fists, and he felt Hogwarts' silent support. He would find them again. No matter how long it took.
In the meantime, however, he had a lot of catching up to do.
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