Title: Seven of Swords
Author: Magpie quill
Summary: AU. Harry Potter has two lives: 1. The boy who lived and 2. Doitvite, the juggler. He thought that he could keep them apart but when it turns out that he's the mate of a Veela, problems arise. Ignores HBP. slash DMHP, child abuse.
Disclaimer: Many characters and places seen here are the property of J. K Rowling and Warner Brothers. Everything that you do not recognize from the Harry Potter books and movies is mine.
Warnings: AU, OC, DM/HP, slash, child abuse, complex characters, mild drug/alcohol abuse, Dumbledore bashing

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There are many days that could be the beginning of this story. It could have been all hallows eve 1981 when a boy who would not even remember what he did defeated the greatest dark lord who ever fell. Or the story could have begun the next day when the child's godfather was sent away for murder and the savior given to his aunt and uncle. The story may have begun when the little boy was three and was hit for the first time by the man charged to protect the child: His Uncle Vernon. As it is though the story starts in a warm summers evening five years after little Harry Potter was dropped off at number four Privet Drive.

"Out! Out! OUT!" yelled Petunia Dursley "How dare you! That was a wedding gift and you have the nerve to break it and then try and blame my baby? Out! Just wait till I tell Vernon!

"I'm sorry!" sobbed the little boy. But what exactly he was sorry for was lost forever by the slam of the door.

Cradling his bruised arm, Harry slowly made his way to the back of the garden. With ease born of long practice he slipped behind the shed, knocked on the back fence and then sat down to wait. Desperate to get his mind to think of something besides the pain, Harry examined his little hidey-hole.

To anyone else this scrap of land would appear to be nothing important. Only about ninety centimeters wide, there was barely room to maneuver comfortably. Except in one place, the fence was lined in inexpertly planted herbs. Most were bruised and slightly worse for wear but they were alive. Where the shed met the back wall was a large box and several broken flowerpots covered with a tarp to keep most of the water off. This too had a slightly worn down air to it. If one looked closely though, they could see signs of care and time spent here: On the wall of the shed there were faded chalk pictures; in the grass a loose marble or beat up plastic solider was poking out; And the wilting plants had been carefully tied to thin sticks on the hopes they would revive. For Harry, this place was home.

"Harry! Came as soon as I could. I would have gotten away sooner but my old man was being a bit nasty." The voice came from a girl currently crawling through a gap in the fence. Dusting herself off, Harry got a good look at his friend.

Pamela "call me pixie or else" Coleman was nine to his six it was no surprise that she was a fair deal taller then himself. Her wild hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail that seemed to be on the verge of coming undone at the base of her neck. If it had been loose, her face would have been framed by wild and unimaginably curly dark brown hair. As for her face itself, well it was hard to notice anything besides the large colorful bruise that set off oh so well her amber colored left eye. Noticing that her friend was staring, the girl self-consciously touched the puffy area.

"Its nothing. Like I said, da' was getting testy."

"It looks like something to me." Was the only response she got.

"Yeah well, your arm is what really looks like something. That's gotta hurt a fair bit." Pixie said, critically taking in the swollen wrist and bruising up his arm. Before he could say anything she had plopped down in front of him and started to examine it more closely. Wincing slightly Harry put up with it. Pixie had been around for longer, suffered more injuries, and was better at diagnosing what they were and how to fix them.

Finally she looked up.

"Bad news, you sprained the wrist." Came the diagnosis. For a second the little boy didn't say anything, and then he sighed.

"Can you fix it?" Harry asked nervously. Sprains weren't good. A sprained wrist meant that it was harder to do his chores, which meant getting into more trouble with Uncle Vernon

"I think so, let me check" Pixie replied as she made her way over to the tarp-covered pile in the corner.

Carefully she dragged out a small chest and slipped open the lid. Looking through it she pulled out a couple things and brought them over. Looking over the items Harry mentally ticked them off: A bottle of aspirin stolen from Aunt petunia, a roll of medical tape relived from Pixie's dads care along with some bandages, and a jam jar filled with a salve they had made themselves from the plants they grew. Looking closer at the jar, Harry gave a start. They were almost out. With their families, Pixie and Harry ended up getting hurt a lot. Since they "weren't worth medical treatment" they had to do it all themselves. Their solution: Herbal remedies. Being almost out of the bruise, lotion as they called it, was a problem. It was hard to get the ingredients needed to make more, and hard to find a time and place to make it. Before Harry could protest using it though, Pixie cut him off.

"Your hurt you use the lotion. We'll make more later if we have too." And without giving him time to argue she started fixing him up.

Ten minutes later Harry's wrist was neatly bandaged and smelling slightly of bay and marigold. With the hard stuff over they began being kids. An old ratty deck of cards appeared as well as a few pieces of candy and the two of them settled down to discuss the newest strange occurrence around Harry, what they wish would happen to Dudley, and what school would be like for Harry when he started in the fall. They were just getting started on a particularly vicious game of spit when they heard the sound of a car pulling into number four. A moment later and the two children were gone; back to the horror show they called their life.

A/N: I'm expecting this story to be long. This means that their will be at least two, possible more, chapters before there is any mention of Veela. Now on to the more important buissness. I love to hear what you have to say. Please Review!