Title: Harry’s Child (rev. 12) 2/4
Pairing: None yet
Warnings: Child Abuse, Superpower Harry, Good Petunia, Abusive Dursley, Violence
Disclaimer: Nope, doesn’t belong to me. I only play with them a bit.
Summary:This plot bunny started bothering me when I read Harry Potter and the Child Legilimens. It really is not completely related to that story, but sometimes it happens that I just go off into one direction when something call my rather over active imagination and the muses run off with the idea. So here it is the first draft of it. Needs a lot of work before it makes it to either ff.net or my own site.
Notes: This is a revision of what is revision 12 of this story (It is not much different t in the beginning but I made a lot of changes later. Also this is a better start of the story) first post I have added a lot to this and there’s really a lot more to the story, as soon as I have typed revisions 2 to 11 then I’ll post them to the journal.
Author’s Note: There are a few typhos and similar errors on this post and the continuations. They are mostly errors the handwriting converter of my tabletPC (I wrote part of this on it). I will be correcting them as I go, so if anyone reads this before I do, be patient, they should be corrected sometime today or tomorrow.
On with the story:
Harry knew that by leaving his aunt home, they were showing they were still very angry with her for not siding with them. The woman had looked sad, and then she shrugged and surprised Harry by suggesting they called for pizza. The teen had rarely been allowed to eat it –it was a luxury for him- and he liked it a lot. If his aunt was offering he was not going to refuse.
While they waited Harry fed his child. Petunia had already supervised him as he bathed her. It had been a slightly disturbing experience at first. He was afraid to drop her –they had bathed the infant in the bathroom’s sink- or hurt her. The teen had never even been close to a baby much less hold one. But his aunt was actually very patient and encouraging. The boy could see she was really fond of the child. As he bathed her he became more confident and relaxed, especially as the baby squealed in delight, she liked bath time. Afterwards it did not take long to change her into pajamas, feed her and put her to bed. She was very tired from her earlier crying so it was not hard to get her to sleep.
It was while they were eating that Petunia told Harry about the Evans’ inheritance. His grandparents had created four trust funds for both their daughters and their children. One was for Lily’s children and the other for Petunia’s. Both had equal amounts. The Evans had been very well off when they died and the trust funds had also gained a good amount due to interest rates through the years. Since both Harry and Dudley were only children the whole fund would be at their disposal when they turned fifteen. In Harry’s case he also got his mother’s share, it had been accumulating interest until he reached fifteen, as Lily never used that money. Petunia had already used hers.
Petunia had not told Dudley because she knew he would spend it faster than he could devour a slice of cake. She hoped they could use that amount of money to pay for a University career. The young wizard had snorted. His cousin could care less about a higher education; he did not have the brains anyway. In Harry’s case Petunia planned on telling him, but he was whisked away before she could. His aunt had been keeping an eye on the accounts even if she could not use them. In Harry’s account there was enough that he could support himself and his new daughter living comfortably all their lives without having to work. He could even give himself a few luxuries now and then. This news had surprised Harry, but he now felt confident that Vernon would not send the baby to an orphanage because he could not provide for her.
They made plans to go to the bank on Monday –it was a Saturday- or Tuesday, as Harry needed to have the Headmaster’s permission to leave the house. From the bank they would go and get the baby’s supplies. According to his aunt the poor thing had ‘nothing’. Petunia also suggested that Harry did some shopping of his own. It was about time that he got some new clothes and shoes that fit. The teen saw the point in that, so he agreed.
Harry also wanted to go to Diagon Alley, specifically Flourish & Botts. He knew nothing about dealing with magical infants, so he hoped he could buy some books on the subject. For that trip he needed a disguise, a good one and undetectable by magical means. Petunia suggested dyeing his hair –blond or some other color- use make up to cover his scar –the kind used for the theater or movies- and colored contacts.
The idea was good and it gave the young wizard the freedom to come and go into the magical world without attracting attention. From planning their outing, they moved to choosing baby names. His daughter needed one, and soon. It was odd for Harry to be thinking of a daughter, as he had yet to absorb the full implications of his actions that evening. After much thinking the young wizard decided to name her Arien Kathleen Potter. He had read the name somewhere he could not remember, but he had liked it enough not to forget. Kathleen was a concession to his aunt’s change of heart. The woman had been thinking of naming her granddaughter that.
After dinner Harry went to bed, the day had been filled with emotional ups and downs so he was exhausted. Almost without thought he brushed his teeth, changed into his big worn pajamas, cleared his mind the best that he could, and was out like a light before his head touched his thin pillow. The young teen enjoyed the First dreamless and restful night in months. He also had, at least for a while, not dwelled on his grief over Sirius death and the Department of Mysteries . He had been to busy, first keeping Arien away from an orphanage and later learning how to care for her.
The baby, and her new father, slept all through the night thankfully. It allowed Harry to catch up some much needed sleep, since he had slept poorly most of the previous terms. At seven thirty Arien began fussing and whimpering. She was soaked from head to toe and needed both a bath and a change. Harry grumbled at being awakened so early and his sleepy mind decided to ignore the noise and go back to sleep. Then, like a bucket of icy water, the reality of the previous evening intruded. He had acquired a daughter last night; and right now said ‘daughter’ was crying. Merlin! He had the baby less than a day and he was already ignoring her. That would not do at all, he did not want to be like his aunt and uncle had been with him.
Harry guiltily got up, and fighting his disgust at handling the thoroughly pissed –literally- baby, he awkwardly carried her to the bathroom and bathed her in the sink. He dried her gently and wrapped her in a clean fluffy towel. The boy knew his aunt would not protest. After that he came to the worrisome problem of what to do with her while he took care of nature’s call and the rest of his morning ablutions. Aunt Petunia had mentioned that he would have to do with what little time he got and not be so over conscious about his privacy. Harry ended placing the little child on the fluffy bath rug and go on with his morning rituals, ignoring his discomfort at having an ‘audience’.
Both looking refreshed, they went back to Dudley’s second bedroom to get themselves presentable. Harry dressed her and noted that her baby clothes were a bit tight. Then he put on his hand me down clothes and frowned. They really needed to go shopping. The teen placed Arien on his bed on the side that ended against the wall and bundled his blankets to make a barrier to keep her from rolling over and falling off while he saw what could be done about the bassinet.
Harry took off the sodden sheets and blankets only to find that they did not have others and the bassinet could not be used until he washed it. This was one of those instances where he really wished he could do magic, he was not sure he bassinet would dry by tonight. Magic would have everything cleaned in a flash. With a sigh Harry decided to prepare Arien’s bottle. His aunt had left him a gallon of purified water, baby formula, clean bottles, nipples and a bottle warmer. Once it was ready he sat on the bed, his back propped comfortably against the headboard and proceeded to feed the dainty infant for the second time in his life.
With the morning’s light coming through the window and his mind finally having a peaceful moment, Harry had the chance to REALLY look at Arien. She looked frail and very small even when his aunt said she was not that frail and she was four months old. Arien had pretty ivory skin, a shock of curly black hair and amazing emerald green eyes –just like his- surrounded by long lashes. She was a beautiful little girl and Harry was thankful that she did not take after any of the male Dursleys. Aunt Petunia had mentioned Arien looked a lot like her sister –Lily- and he could see she also looked a bit like him. That was actually very good. There would not be too many questions about his paternity, especially not with those huge emerald green eyes.
Now that most things were settled, at least verbally, Harry had time to start thinking about the repercussions of his actions. The teen froze on the bed. What had he done? Had he not learned that he should not get close to people? Voldemort would use them to hurt him. Harry had, after all, gotten Sirius killed. At that thought tears began pooling in his eyes. God! In trying to save him he had gotten his Godfather killed. It was his fault, all his fault for not trusting adults; for not asking for help from grown ups, and doing everything himself. For not continuing his occlumency lessons, even when everyone was telling him that he should.
He had preferred to continue his childish grudge against Snape. True, the ‘greasy git’ was at fault too; he insisted on blaming the boy for his father’s and godfather’s deeds. But it was Harry who invaded the older wizard’s privacy and betrayed whatever trust the Potions Master might have had in him. Harry had behaved badly and not even apologized even if he knew he owed Snape; and on top of that he forgot the Professor was a member of the Order. One that Dumbledore trusted implicitly.
Even facing his mistakes a part of h, in wanted desperately to place the blame on someone else. Harry already blamed Dumbledore for keeping him in the dark. Snape was the other logical candidate the Potions Master had, after all, goaded Sirius mercilessly for being forced to remain in hiding and inactive at his ancestral home. Still, Sirius was no child –at least not in age even if he did behave like a third year most of the time- and he had ignored Snape’s snarky comments and taunts for a long time.
The young wizard was fair at heart and recognized that while Snape did bear some of the blame; it was not entirely his fault. The Potions Master had, after all, checked that Sirius was safe at Grimmauld’s place and not in Voldemort’s hands. Snape could not show him that he understood with all the Slytherins Death Eater wannabes in that room. He would have betrayed his position as a spy if he did. So it remained Harry’s fault. He had the means to check on Sirius, and he forgot about the mirror. He had not studied occlumency hard enough because he did not know why he should and because it was Snape who taught it, and he had let his curiosity get the better of him. Now, not content with getting Sirius killed and his closest friends hurt, Harry had gotten himself a daughter; an innocent and defenseless baby.
Arien finished her bottle and began cooing and gurgling, her little noises brought her new rather out of his reverie. The young teen had to forcefully bring himself back from his chaotic and self-recriminating thoughts and remember his aunt’s instructions. She told him that he had to burp the baby to avoid collies, so he did as instructed. It was then that he noticed the official looking owl perched patiently on his dresser. It carried a letter on one of its legs. As soon as Arien burped twice and no milk came back Harry settled her on the bed close to the wall.
“Sorry.” He apologized to the patient owl, who hooted as if to say `no problem’. “I was a bit busy.” He offered the bird some water and a couple of owl treats for its troubles, then he took the letter from the proffered leg. Harry gasped and worried when he realized it came from the Department of Improper Use of Magic. He had not done any accidental magic, but what if Arien had done? They had not been able to tell the difference between his magic and Dobby’s in second year. He worried they had expelled him, and he would have to go to trial again.