Harriet Potter and the Guardians of Atlantis

Part 1: Harriet Potter and the Strange Witch

Rating: T for language, mild innuendos, mild violence and scenes of child abuse.

Warning: This chapter contains depictions of child abuse.

Chapter 1: The Escape

"Four thousand years ago, the whole world was magic. And what a world it was."

-The Memoirs of Percival Peverell, 1012 CE

A cool wind blew through the branches of a tree on the edge of a park in Little Whinging, Surrey. The tree was itself rather unremarkable. Indeed the only significant thing about it was how easily climbable it was. That particular feature was currently in use, as a young girl sat in the branches of the tree, enjoying the cool breeze. The girl's name was Harriet Potter, and she lay in the branches, her eyes closed. She was wearing an overly large tee shirt and jeans, hand me downs from her cousin.

Breathe in, Breathe out, she thought to herself, trying to find her focus.

Harriet shifted slightly, wincing in pain as something pushed into the side of her chest. Harriet realized that trying to climb a tree with broken ribs was a bad idea, yet it was one of the few places that gave her some cover. Her minders had yet to learn to look up. And in truth, the pain was nothing compared to what she had felt yesterday. She should have known her Uncle Vernon wouldn't let her 10th birthday pass without an incident. That things would go as horribly as they had was not something she could have anticipated however.

She expected Vernon to take his rage out on her. After all, she was different. She was a witch. And that wasn't a metaphor or insult. She could use magic. Her uncle, along with her aunt and cousin couldn't. And her Uncle hated her for it, and took it out on her at every opportunity.

It hadn't always been this way. Up until her 8th birthday she had lived mostly happily in both the magical and muggle worlds. Which was not to say that everything was perfect. Her uncle had always barely tolerated her. Her Aunt Petunia had clearly wanted a daughter, and had sometimes treated Harriet as such, but other times she had treated her dismissively, almost cruelly. It was clear to Harriet now that there had always been a battle in her aunt's head between Petunia's desire to take care of her sisters daughter and her resentment of anything magical. Dudley had been a spoiled brat, but that Harriet could handle.

But the best part had been her godfather, Sirius Black. He'd shown up once or twice a month, as often as he could, and had shown her the magical world. Diagon Alley, his home at Grimmauld Place, the Ministry of Magic. They'd gone on wilderness trips with Sirius's friend Remus Lupin. He'd taken her to places in the muggle world as well, including amusement parks and zoos. He'd called her Harry, a nickname that made her sound like a boy. She hadn't minded that because having a nickname made her feel special. But above all, he'd been like a father to her, teaching her about magic and giving her solid, if eclectic, advice about her life. Maybe he told me a bit too much about magic, Harriet thought, considering what I'm about to do.

Then, on her 8th birthday, Sirius had a tremendous row with her Uncle Vernon. And the visits had stopped. He had snuck into her relatives' house in his dog animagus form to explain. A man named Lucius Malfoy had accused Sirius of threatening to kill her uncle, and he'd been prohibited from contacting her. Vernon had asked, and had been granted, the further concession that no one from the magical world be allowed to bother them, at least until it was time for Harriet to go to Hogwarts. Sirius had pledged that he would come to visit her in animagus form, but Harriet had forbidden it. She was not about to see her godfather in Azkaban.

She now wished she had not been so successful in convincing him. For a while things had seemed all right. But as her uncle's confidence had grown he had become more and more verbally abusive towards her. An insult here and there became common, and shouting became his only means of communication with her. Soon she was doing more than her fair share of the chores, up to even doing the cooking sometimes. That would have been bad enough, but Harriet had developed a tendency to defy him as she grew inured to his rants. That's when his abuse had become more physical.

The first time it had happened he had been yelling at her for not cooking dinner fast enough. She had replied that she couldn't make the food cook quicker and he'd slapped her. Compared to what he had done since she would barely feel it now. But her aunt had gone ballistic, yelling at Vernon that he had gone too far. The two had gone to bed arguing. The next day her aunt did not come out of their bedroom until late in the day. And from then on she had not intervened when Vernon hit her. Not once. For a long time Harriet had felt betrayed by that. After last night though, she felt she understood why her aunt had stayed quiet.

Breathe in, Breathe out, Harriet repeated to herself.

Her aunt had been an enigma for years. Back when Sirius had been around she'd disapproved of everything he'd ever done with Harriet. Sirius had a foul mouth, and tended to encourage Harriet's more mischievous inclinations, things that her aunt just couldn't stand. Yet when asked, her Aunt Petunia had admitted that Sirius Black was the only magical person she respected.

"He was the only magical person, with the exception of Lily I suppose, to ever give me a choice about anything," she had said to Harriet. It had been over a year later that Harriet realized that the thing Sirius had given her aunt a choice about was Harriet herself. Sirius had asked his aunt if she wanted to care for Harriet, and she had agreed. And in that Harriet saw the problem with her relationship with her aunt. Her aunt detested the magical world, not because she hated magic, but because she had never had a chance to be part of it, and every time it had come into contact with her it had forced her into situations she didn't want.

To her aunt's credit, as Vernon began to hurt Harriet more and more often, Petunia had gone to the police. When she had checked on her case with the police again, she found that they had no record of it, and the officer who had interviewed her had no memory of it. That is when the minders showed up. Apparently they had been there all along, but now they began to show themselves. They were from the DMLE, assigned to make sure no one bothered the famous Harriet Potter. One of them had promised he would report her uncle's abuse to his boss at the DMLE. However on his next shift he had apologized, saying that someone had threatened to harm his family if he did not hide what was happening to Harriet.

Harriet realized that her fame had become a curse. As an infant, a dark wizard named Voldemort had tried to kill her. He had killed her parents. But somehow he had failed to kill her, and had instead been defeated himself. This had made her famous throughout the magical world. But no one would question the DMLE trying to protect a small child from the enemies (or fans) she would almost certainly have. So no one was questioning why they were keeping her completely away from the magical world.

Breath in, Breathe out.

Dudley was probably the biggest puzzle of all the Dursleys. When he had been younger, he'd had a tendency towards portliness. However, once Harriet had begun to show a modicum of athleticism Aunt Petunia had forced him to be a bit more fit. The result had been that Dudley had discovered his calling as a bully.

In the immediate aftermath of Sirius's banishment, Dudley had been a tremendous annoyance. He'd celebrated when her 9th birthday gift had been to get kicked out of her bedroom and forced to sleep in a cupboard under the stairs. He'd taunted her, and mocked her that she wasn't able to go on her trips anymore. But slowly things had changed. Even Dudley knew that hitting girls was wrong, it was one of the laws of the playground (not that Harriet herself was opposed to roughhousing if it served her purposes). As Vernon's ire had grown more and more violent, Dudley had become more and more of an ally.

They had created an elaborate deception where Harriet and Dudley did each other's school work, in order to fool Vernon into thinking Dudley was doing better in school than Harriet. Dudley had taken Harriet with him to his friends. His explanation to his father was that he needed someone to do menial tasks for him, but in truth Dudley was teaching Harriet how to fight, something he had a talent for. Not that Dudley was particularly skilled there yet, but he had some natural ability his fists.

Where Dudley had been a bit of a bully before, he'd become less so as he taught Harriet. Harriet wasn't sure if he had become a better person, or if he'd just been too busy to do any bullying. In any case, they'd used the skills Dudley taught her to fool Vernon into thinking that Dudley was beginning to abuse Harriet as well. It was all an act, but it was one they had become good at. Vernon, happy that his son was following in his footsteps in this, had even begun to hurt Harriet less.

And then last night, it had all come crashing down.

Breathe in, Breathe out.

Vernon had been angry last night. He'd had a bad day. After hitting Harriet a few times, Dudley had volunteered to take over, and had mock hit her a few times. Dudley wasn't exactly the most graceful person in the world, so a lot of his blows still connected, but they were merely uncomfortable as opposed to actually harmful to her. But Vernon wasn't satisfied. He wanted her to scream. And so he'd pulled out a stick that had been a part of his school uniform at Smeltings, his old boarding school. The resulting beating had almost certainly broken some of her ribs. But that wasn't it. Dudley had finally had enough and had tried to physically stop his father from hurting her by standing in between them.

And then he'd been hit with the stick.

Vernon hadn't even been sorry. He'd just told Dudley he was disappointed in him and sent him to his room. Her aunt Petunia had gone white. And in her eyes was the same look Harriet remembered from the first time Vernon had struck Harriet. And in that moment Harriet had understood. Her aunt had seen the possibility that Vernon would hurt Dudley, and she would do anything to prevent that. Part of that realization made Harriet sad. No matter what, she now knew Petunia could never be a real mother to her. She would always put Dudley first. But at the same time she couldn't blame her anymore. Petunia was just as much a victim as she was, trapped in this house under threat of violence from her husband, forced to watch him brutalize her niece, trying desperately to do everything she could to keep the same fate from befalling her son.

That night Dudley had sneaked downstairs. He had brought bandages and they had wrapped her broken ribs. And she'd seen the defiance ringing in his eyes. The attack by his father had not broken Dudley. Instead it had lit a fire in him. And he'd promised her he'd stall for her today as long as he could. She had to make her escape.

Breathe in, Breathe out.

Harriet struggled to maintain her focus. She didn't really know any magic, but that didn't matter. She'd found a stone that would fit in the palm of her hand, but had a smooth flat surface. Pulling it out of her pocket she looked at the rune she'd painted on it. She'd spent ages trying to find a book on ancient nordic runes. When she had she had carefully inscribed the rune for power on this stone.

But it hadn't been enough. She needed a magical component. Her aunt had seen the stone today before Harriet had left. She'd asked why she'd traced the rune in red paint. It wasn't paint though. It was the only magical substance that Harriet had access to. Her own blood.

Breathe in, Breathe out.

Harriet could feel the magic calling to her through the runestone. Yet just unleashing it could have catastrophic effects. She had to be focused, to make sure she hit her intended target. She might not get another chance. She didn't know if this would work even once. She had to be focused.

Slowly she pocketed the runestone and climbed down from the tree. And she began to walk. Not towards home, but away. How she was going to get all the way to Diagon Alley she didn't know. But she had to. If she could just get to where magical people were she could cry out; scream "I'm Harriet Potter and my uncle is abusing me." There would be no hiding that. But getting to Diagon or the Leaky Cauldron would be an almost impossible task. Still Harriet had to try.

"There you are Potter," said a familiar unpleasant voice.

Runcorn, thought Harriet.

Breathe in, Breathe out.

Roger Runcorn was rather seedy looking, the younger brother of what Harriet assumed had to be the far more impressive Albert Runcorn. He wore robes, which he probably shouldn't have, given that he was in a muggle neighborhood. The robes were dirty (Harriet suspected that Runcorn didn't launder them as much as he should). He had a sneer on his face.

"Come now Potter, you're going the wrong way," said Runcorn, "You aren't thinking of giving me trouble are you."

Breathe in, Breathe out.

Runcorn was by far the most sadistic of her captors. Not only did he know she was being abused, he enjoyed it. He actually tried to get Harriet in trouble more so that she'd get more beatings. Harriet suspected his family had supported Voldemort, but that was neither here nor there. Though she wondered why he acted with such impunity. After all eventually she would re-enter the magical world. Wouldn't he be caught then? His lack of concern for this worried Harriet a lot. Just another reason to escape.

"I don't want to cause trouble for anyone," she said levelly as she reached into her pocket and pulled out her runestone..

"Then let's head back to number 4 then," said Runcorn impatiently.

Breathe In, she thought as she began to pull magic through the runestone.

"Come on!" he said angrily as he reached for her arm.

"No!" she shouted as she thrust her fist forward, unleashing the magic she had gathered in an uncontrolled burst. The blast knocked Runcorn back and had him sprawled on the ground.

Harriet didn't waste time. She immediately started running.

She ran down the street, turning at the first intersection. There was another row of houses there which were unfamiliar to Harriet. The street was empty except for a woman who was jogging towards Harriet. From the street she had just left, Harriet heard the sound of quick footsteps.

Damn, she thought, he recovered quickly.

She ran toward the strange woman. The woman looked to be in her late 20's. She had black hair, and was relatively pale skinned. Harriet thought that she had an ethereal beauty about her that she couldn't quite describe. She was wearing a cropped exercise top and baggy athletic shorts, and had a tall bottle of water strapped around her waist. A very tall bottle. The woman looked at her in surprise.

"Are you all right?" said the woman. She had an accent that Harriet couldn't quite identify, it sounded like a mix of French and German.

Harriet had one chance. Most likely this woman would just get her memory wiped, but if she could distract Runcorn for a second…

"There's a man after me," said Harriet, "He wants to take me back to my abusive uncle. Please help me!"

The woman's eyes narrowed.

"Look what he did!" Harriet said lifting her shirt to show her bandages.

Runcorn came running around the corner, breathing heavily. He clearly wasn't used to heavy physical activity.

"I see," said the woman. She put a hand on Harriet's shoulder. "I won't let him take you."

Runcorn ran up, "Harriet, you need to come with me NOW!" he said angrily.

"The young lady does not wish to accompany you," said the strange woman, "I think you should leave."

"This is none of your concern," said Runcorn sinisterly, "If you know what is good for you, you will leave."

The woman shook her head. "Not happening."

Harriet lifted her hand, which still had the runestone in it. At the same time Runcorn put his hand under his robe, clearly gripping his wand. "You'll regret this. Well, you won't, but you would if you were going to remember it."

Harriet tried to summon her magic again. It was harder this time, as if she was somehow tired. But it came to her after a moment. And focusing her anger on Runcorn she thrust forth her hand and shouted, "No you don't!"

"Protego!" shouted Runcorn as Harriet's magic released. It splashed harmlessly against his shield. Harriet's heart sank.

And then the woman put her fingers into her water bottle. It wasn't a water bottle though, Harriet realized, it was a glamour. The woman had pulled out a wand! "Stupefy," she said calmly.

Runcorn was so surprised he didn't have time to cast or dodge. He just collapsed in a heap.

"You're a witch!" said Harriet excitedly.

"Just so, Miss Potter," said the witch, causing Harriet to start.

The woman laughed, "Are you so surprised that I recognize you with that scar on your forehead?"

Harriet grabbed her forehead. She'd almost forgotten. That scar was all that remained of the curse that Voldemort had used on her so many years ago.

"That was exceptional accidental magic though," said the witch.

"It wasn't accidental," said Harriet as she held up her runestone.

The witch looked at it for a moment. "How did you get this to work? You'd need magical…" the witch trailed off.

"Is that your blood?" she asked sharply. Harriet nodded. The witch looked impressed by that.

"Very, very good work there, but the Ministry almost certainly detected you using that. And there's no telling whether the person they send will be friend or foe."

Harriet looked at the woman confused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I am aware of the fact that you have been deliberately cut off from the magical world. And any person from the DMLE might just return you to your uncle if they find you here," said the witch.

"Can you take me to Diagon Alley?" asked Harriet.

The witch considered this. "Unfortunately, as a foreigner, I could be deported if I commit a crime. That cannot happen. Simply put, if we failed to get our case to the right ears, I would go down with you."

Harriet's heart sank.

The witch gave Harriet a kind smile. "That does not mean I do not intend to help you however. You need to get to someone who is not bound by the ministry, yet can also bring you in contact with the magical world."

"And that's a small task?" asked Harriet sarcastically.

"Normally it would be difficult, yes," admitted the witch, "But by coincidence two such people live in the next town over. They are muggles, but their daughter is a witch who is not yet Hogwarts age. They discovered magic some time ago, but as they were never officially informed, they do not fall under the Ministry's watchful eye, at least not yet."

"How do you know this?" asked Harriet.

The witch shook her head, "This is not the time for stories. But I'm sure you will discover more in time."

"Who are you?" Harriet asked, suddenly suspicious.

"I would prefer my name not be associated with this," said the witch, "But we will meet again,"

"What about him?" Harriet asked.

"I'll make sure he doesn't remember what happened," said the witch.

The woman quickly gave instructions on how to get to the place of work of the two people she was to meet. It wasn't very far at all, it would take less than twenty minutes to walk there.

"How will I know the place?" asked Harriet after the witch had finished.

"It is a dentist's practice," said the witch, "Their names are the Grangers. Helen and Robert. Their daughter is Hermione."

Harriet nodded and began to walk away. She turned back to thank the woman, but she had disappeared, as had Runcorn.

"Move quickly," she heard a voice whisper in her ear.

Harriet could ponder this later. She began to run, this time with a direction and a purpose.

Author's Note: I'm posting two chapters because this one was so short, but I felt it would be best if the first chapter focuses on the titular Strange Witch.