Rita Skeeter sat in her chair at the Daily Prophet, she was currently a lowly intern fresh out of Hogwarts, she needed to make a name for herself because right now she was getting nothing but small articles on the back pages next to the ads and maybe a byline somewhere in the middle of the paper. She had to find a story. But there wasn't much, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was dead, about a half a decade or so ago, the Wizengamot was trudging along at its normal slow pace, this left no real political scandals she could dig up. So she rose from her seat, knowing that the older and more set in witches and wizards at the paper wouldn't care if she left early, she had very little to do anyway and being a halfblood indulged herself by heading out into the muggle world, where she didn't have to deal with the chance of running into anyone she knew.

Donning a pair of hip huggers and a high cut shirt, she would blend in with the summer tourists that come from around the world, deciding on a quiet coffee shop with where she could have a light lunch before going home, she sat and people watched. A talent she picked up, due to her nature as an animagus. She usually heard interesting rumors, cheating spouses, struggles with money and the like. Rita couldn't report on the lives of muggles but that did not make it any less entertaining to listen to.

However this day she cringed as she watched a heavily obese man, a rail thin woman and two children walk into the shop. It didn't help that one of the boys was covered in chocolate and looked like a beach ball, but it was the truly offensive odor some of them had. "Yeah, this is why I stay out of the muggle world," Rita thought to herself, as she liked that an odor removing spell, actually removed the stench unlike cologne or perfume which masked at best or worse still mixed and melded into a truly offensive scent.

So Rita was hurriedly finishing her snack and so she could leave when she noticed a detail on the other boy, a faint scar on his forehead hidden behind long, black bangs and a head hung low to hide from the world.

Now it's not unusual for children to have scars, they tend to act and play in ways that leaves them with some injuries, and a kid smacking their head into a branch or on a low table happens so often it's barely worthy of note. But curiosity is a fickle beast and Rita didn't think it would hurt to listen for a little longer, a quick wave of her wand discretely, she was able to mute much of the other sounds she was hearing in the cafe so that it would be easier to pick up the conversation of the family that had just entered.

"Freak, keep your mouth shut and you won't be locked in the cupboard when we get home," Vernon hissed quietly at the boy.

Harry quickly nodded in agreement as he didn't enjoy being locked in the cupboard, so any opportunity to avoid that was usually taken without question.

All he had to do was be quiet and make sure nothing weird happened and then he wouldn't be punished. Harry made sure to stand still and quiet off to the side, when he noticed in his peripherals that someone was looking at him. He had a sense about it and would often times find random strangers giving him looks, many of them adults who seemed to go unnoticed by those around them, some would nod and smile others would look at him as if he was a strange creature. This woman was in the latter category

He could tell it was one of those people because many of them seemed to hold sticks in their hands of various lengths but always in a way that was inconspicuous. He had pointed that out to his Aunt Petunia one day when they were at the grocer, she quickly gathered up himself and Dudley and left everything in the cart in the middle of the aisle in the store and rushed home, not even bothering to stop at the stop signs

He was punished for some reason and told to never talk to or approach one of those people but to always tell herself or Uncle Vernon if he saw them.

This time he wanted to tell his Aunt and Uncle, but that would cause a scene and then he'd get punished again, so he was in between two options, do nothing and see what happens next with the woman and her stick or tell his relatives and they in turn leave quickly, forgetting entirely about what they ordered and likely him being locked in the cupboard. It wasn't a very hard decision as he really hated the cupboard.

So, all the while his relatives were ordering their lunches, Harry kept her in the corner of his eye, in case she did something strange.

Rita, noticed how the boy seemed wary of her, not to strange if he was who she suspected, but she had no proof and she couldn't ruddy just run up and ask if he's Harry Potter, that'd cause a scene. Instead Rita decided to indulge in her curiosity, quickly paying for her lunch she left the cafe and ducked around the corner, before shifting into her beetle form, so as not to be seen, then flying back around she looked through the store front windows to watch the family.

"Strange," she thought to herself. "Why didn't the boy order anything for himself." She watched as the other three ate their lunch, two of them more food than she would eat in a day. "Maybe that's why, I wouldn't have much of an appetite if I had to sit next to those two."

After a far longer time than any other customer stayed, due to the Dursleys ordering too much food. They rose and paid the bill, leaving the cafe and getting into the vehicle

Rita used this opportunity to fly and land on the roof of the car and go on a journey with them, for if nothing came of it, she would just head somewhere deserted and then apparate back home. So at worst she's just spending her day trailing an interesting looking muggle family.

Arriving at Number 4 Privet Drive, the Dursleys and Harry got out of the car and went into the house, the small water beetle flying behind them unnoticed.

"Freak, get to work," Vernon ordered Harry as he took off his coat and hung it by the door. "We'll want dinner in a couple of hours so don't waste time."

"That cannot be the child's name," Rita scoffed, being a beetle, no sound came out as she fluttered about taking in the room. "I didn't have the sanest family but no muggle would name their kid that."

For the next couple of hours Rita freely explored the home, looking at the pictures on the walls and mantle, seeing the fat husband lay on his straining recliner, the fat son upstairs roughly playing with toys until they broke, then just moving onto more toys, the wife, drinking an unhealthily full glass of cheap box wine

While the interesting party was the black hair boy, he was constantly in motion

The floors were swept clean, then scrubbed, on hands and knees no less, to a shine. The walls were dusted, from where they met at the ceiling to the molding on the floor. He didn't miss a spot.

This contributed to explaining the uneasy feeling she was getting from the house. By no means was she a neat freak nor did she grow up with germaphobes for parents, but the efficiency this child cleaned and at such a young age, left the house looking wrong, as if no one lived there.

She watched as he put the cleaning tools away and hurry into the kitchen where he filled a large pot with water and set that to boil on the stove. He rushed around gathering ingredients and prepped them as it seemed like he was going to make a stew large enough to feed a garrison of troops. It was a bit entrancing as she watched him bustle about, chopping vegetables, mixing herbs and spices together. The young boy also had to use a cute little step ladder to reach up high enough to get all the ingredients into the bubbling pot.

Now Rita had expected that the wife would be in the kitchen helping or at least keeping an eye on the boy but she had long abandoned the room and instead gone upstairs to do who knows what. Instead, the child probably no more than eight or nine years old was left unsupervised in the kitchen.

And as one would expect of a young child a mistake happened, when he was holding a large cutting board which held the cubed beef that would go into the pot, his small arms couldn't hold the weight at that angle any longer and he dropped the wooden board. Dropping the cutting board caused it to hit the rim of the pot, toppling it over and spilling boiling water all over his chest, arms and legs. She was startled at the blood curdling scream the boy let out when the hot water splashed over him.

Steam began rising from his body as he stumbled back all the while his cries of agony disturbed Rita greatly. She stopped herself from transforming and apparating the child to St. Mungo's, regardless of his identity or not, but the rushed sounds of the fat man and his wife entering meant she was certain they would quickly whisk him away to the hospital or at least call the paramedics. Rita was horrified when they instead started yelling at the boy about being clumsy and wasting food rather than help him. Rita could actually see the boy's skin blistering from the heated liquid that washed over him.

The smell of the stew the boy had been making was starting to be drowned out from the stench of his flesh peeling from the injury. Rita didn't think this was possible that any parents could have so little regard for a child's safety that they still hadn't done anything to help him, but before she could intervene, the next words out of the woman's mouth pretty much confirmed her suspicions about the boy's identity.

"Well you ruddy little freak, do that thing where you hide the scars," Petunia ordered Harry, who had tears streaming down his cheeks.

"It, it hurts," he whined as he squinted his eyes. But like all the past times he had been injured and miraculously recovered this was no different. The blisters stopped forming on his exposed skin and underneath his clothing and then slowly began to recede as he felt his flesh shift back to how it used to be. "I can't do it," Harry complained as he started to struggle to breathe.

"Well we aren't taking you to the bloody hospital boy, so you better fix yourself," Vernon commanded.

Trying harder Harry was able to get his body back to how it used to be, moments before. "I think I, did it," he started to say before the exhaustion of changing his body took its toll on him and made him slump to the floor.

"Oh bloody great," Vernon rolled his eyes. "Such a drama queen."

Dudley stuck his head around the corner of the wall. "Mum, Dad, does that mean no dinner," he asked completely unconcerned about Harry's wellbeing despite the boy laying on the floor in front of him.

"Of course Diddy-kins, we'll just have to order out," Petunia cooed, stepping over Harry, narrowly missing planting the heel of her shoe down on his throat.

Vernon grunted as he squatted to grasp one of Harry's arms. "Ungrateful, hrrg," he said as he dragged Harry's limp body out of the room. "Wasteful, freak," he muttered as he flung open the door to the cupboard under the stairs and shoved Harry in with not a care about how he was place. "He'll bloody need to clean up the mess he made before he even thinks about getting to eat.

As soon as the room cleared out of people, Rita fluttered down from the shelf she was perched on and shifted back into her human form and just stood mouth agape at what had transpired.

"Bloody hell," she muttered as she peaked around the corner. She saw Petunia pick up the phone and walk into the living room where the other Dursleys were sitting watching the television. Creeping along she made it to the door that Vernon had put Harry into and carefully opened it and saw to her dismay the state that the famous boy was left in. Shoved in the cramped room like a pile of garbage, his body at an odd angle, that she knew would be uncomfortable, but what terrified her was that the small space looked like it was done up as the worlds smallest bedroom, and it was as she saw the scratch marks in the wall that said, "Harry's room".

Rita quickly came to a decision. "I got to get out of here," Rita muttered as she gently readjusted Harry into a more comfortable position, before standing up and shutting the door.

Petunia shrieked when she saw Rita rise from the floor. "Who the bloody hell are you, oh god, you're one of them." she stumbled back. "Vernon, they're in the house."

"What," Vernon exclaimed as he rocked back and forth attempting to gain enough momentum to get his fat arse off the seat. "Who is."

"Them, they found the boy," Petunia shouted as she saw Rita wide-eyed backing up. "They saw the cupboard."

"Dammit," Vernon grunted as he tried harder and harder to get out of his chair.

For a moment Rita wasn't sure what to do but she knew she couldn't stay here or let them remember her being there. Raising her wand she fired the first spell she could think of, the one that her best friend back in Hogwarts said he'd mastered, "Obliviate," she shouted as the white burst of light impacted the distraught wife. When the fat man came around the corner she tagged him with the same spell and then with a snap of her fingers disapparated out of the home.

Unfortunately this would save her identity, but the use of magic triggered a warning letter that would result in Harry being punished for something he had no hand in, and worse still it explained the spell that was used and that worsened the conditions as the Dursleys now would punish him for anytime they forgot something as they figured he must be the reason if he can use magic to make people forget things.

Rita landed roughly on the floor of the Leaky Cauldron, the first place she could think of when she snapped her fingers.

"Oi, don't be doing none of that, come on now," Tom scolded the new comer. "I don't be popping into your business and scuffing up your floors now do I?"

"S-sorry Tom," Rita sheepishly said as she scrambled off the dusty wood. "Hey I uh need to get to the back room," she quickly said as she rushed past him and down the door that lead to Diagon Alley.

Tom, the type of man who didn't rock a boat he wasn't in didn't do much but nod as the scared blonde exited the building.

Rita made it into the Alley before she ran all the way down cobblestone road before barging into the Daily Prophet, possibly on instinct as any time she had a major story, she would rush back to try and get it added to the next day's paper in the hopes that it wouldn't be pushed to the back or bottom.

Her coworkers stared at her as she hurried down the rows of reporters and she shoved one of the editors out of the way before barging into the owner's office.

"Ms. Skeeter, I am in the middle of a meeting," the owner said in annoyance. "Whatever this is can wait, hey, what are you doing," he stammered as he watched one of his interns drag the client, a now furious Mr. Malfoy out of the room by his collar and slam the door on him.

"I found Harry Potter," Rita quickly said.

The owner stopped before letting out a hearty chuckle. "Ms. Skeeter, do you have any idea how many times I get that same line used. "I found Harry Potter, he's living down the road from me, I had brunch with him last Thursday, he saved me from a rampaging Wampus." None of them have turned up true and none will, the boy probably doesn't even exist. He's like a, a, metaphor."

"No you daft fool, I found him, he's living with muggles," She shouted, not worried about her volume as the owners office was warded to stop any chance of eavesdroppers.

"Posh, no self-respecting wizard of a pureblood family such as his would live with Muggles," the owner scoffed. "If he exists, he's likely with a wealthy and respectable family like the Malfoys, of which you just tossed him out."

"I saw him, he's with muggles and they, they're, Merlin's balls they are killing him," Rita tried to explain. "We have to get the word out to everyone, we need to form a mob or, or get the Aurors. We have to help him," Rita said as she paced in the office.

"Calm down Ms. Skeeter, we will do no such thing and," the owner said standing up and coming from around his desk. "I think it time you clear out your desk, you've clearly come down with a case of B. ."

"What," Rita questioned as she felt her boss start pushing her towards his door.

"B. , the need to make up bullshit to advance your career, so kindly," he said shoving her out of his office. "Get out of my business, you're fired!"

Rita sat down on the steps of the Daily Prophet with a small cardboard box next to her, it held all of her belongings, which weren't much, so few that she didn't even need to expand the inside of the box to hold it all. She had no awards or accolades that she could have lined her desk with and now she didn't even have that. "What do I do," she bemoaned her fate as she watched foot traffic. "He didn't believe me, so why would anyone else," she complained as she looked up at the darkening sky. "Ugh, stupid Potter, stupid abuse, stupid me for trying to do the right thing."

She was shaken out of her thoughts when an Auror stepped in front of her. "Auror Senior Grade Amelia Bones, I've gotten a complaint from the Prophet about you loitering."

"Auror Senior Grade," Rita looked up at the face of the scowling redheaded woman. "Auror, oh thank Merlin, Maeve and Morgana," she shot up from the ground. "You have to help me, please, he needs you," Rita ranted as she grasped the Auror's hand and forcefully aparated the two of them back to the Dursley household.

Landing on the lawn in a heap as Amelia didn't like the sudden abduction. She rolled off the ground and aimed her wand at Rita, "You're in a lot of trouble miss, side-alonging an auror against their will is three years in Azkaban."

"I don't care," Rita scrambled off the ground. "Come quick, come quick," she waved over the other woman. "In here, Harry Potter is in here, he needs help."

"Harry Potter," Amelia scoffed as she followed Rita but not lowering her wand. When Rita began to peer through the windows, Amelia's frustration rose. "Come now, you've obviously had a lot to drink, so let's get you in a cell for the night and I'll forget about you dragging me along.

"Hey," Rita shouted as she pounded on the door to the Dursley home. "I know you're in there, open up."

Amelia barged over and hissed at Rita for causing a disturbance, but before she could stun the woman the door opened and Petunia stared at the two of them before seeing the wand, shrieking once again and fleeing into the house.

"See," Rita pointed. "He lives here," she said as she jiggled the door handle but found it locked. Before she could draw her own wand to open it with a spell Amelia tackled her to the ground, which was a good thing as Vernon had gotten his gun and fired a shot through the front door, the bullet traveling right where Rita had been standing.

"If you're still alive," Vernon shouted. "I've called the bobbies, if you aren't, good riddance, you freaks."

"We are leaving now," Amelia snarled as she dragged Rita away from the home and activated a portkey that would take them to the auror bullpen.

"So now tell me, exactly why in the bloody blazing fires of hell, did you think doing any of that was a good idea," she asked Rita who had been strapped to an interrogation chair.

"Harry Potter, he's in that house and he's being abused," Rita started to explain. "I saw it with my own eyes."

"No one has seen Harry Potter, not since that Halloween night." Amelia shook her head.

Rita almost frustrated to the point of tears about being dismissed again, took a gamble. "It's true, I was in my animagus form when I found him and followed him home."

"You're an animagus," Amelia questioned.

"Ahuh," Rita answered.

"You know that's another three years in Azkaban for failure to register."

"No one registers," Rita quickly said. "But that's not important. I saw what they did to him, I saw what he did. He's, I think he's got some kind of healing magic or, maybe he's immortal." she guessed as she tried to explain what she saw when Harry forced his body back into how it had been.

"So you mean to tell me, that you found the elusive Harry Potter, followed him to his secret muggle family and also knows a school of magic that takes decades to learn or even more unbelievably is immortal," Amelia quirked an eyebrow.

"Yes," Rita nodded.

"How much have you had to drink, I know losing your job sucks, but," Amelia tried to be nice about it.

"Of all the, I'm not drunk, you red-headed slag," Rita screamed. "I'll take some ruddy veritaserum, just fucking, help him, you dumb bint."

"Rude, but sure," Amelia shrugged as she nodded for the junior grade Auror to get a dose of veritaserum from their supply room. "But when you hear the words come out of your own mouth, you're going away for a while, also, I'm not a slag or a bint, I am a pure maiden," Amelia quickly said knowing it was just the two of them in the room.

When the other auror came back with the potion and turns out that what Rita had been raving about was true, at least from her perspective, that gave Amelia pause enough to go to see her boss. "What do you mean, the Auror's won't waste their time with nonsense leads," Amelia shouted.

"Simple, someone decided to make their child look like Harry Potter, stage some outlandish scenario and have a "journalist"," he air quoted. "See the entire act to drum up some controversy, I wouldn't have put it past Ms. Skeeter, as she was a lowly intern, a story like that would have shot her up the ranks at the Prophet, regardless of its veracity."

"Well don't you think maybe we should check up on this at the very least," Amelia said. "The muggle did fire on us."

"Because two unknown people were trespassing," the Department Head squeezed the bridge of his nose. "Even if it's true, what would you do, you tainted evidence gathering with your approach and it's not like we try muggles in the Wizengamot."

"What about for abusing a wizard," Amelia said angrily.

"We just remove custody of them and wipe their minds. Additionally, if it's actually Harry Potter, then you'd have to deal with Dumbeldore, and that would end everything the moment he wanted it too."

"Good news," Amelia said as she reentered the interrogation room. "You are free to go."

The spell binding Rita to the chair was lifted and the Blonde looked curiously at the red-head.

"And."

"Go, that's the and," Amelia answered.

"But Potter," Rita asked.

"It's probably not him and even if it was, the department isn't going to do anything about it." she sighed as she sat in the opposite chair.

"But, but, even if it's not, that's a wizard being abused," Rita tried to understand what was going on.

"I know, but if it's Harry Potter, the head is worried if people higher up make moves to stop him," Amelia shrugged. "I can almost agree, since it'd be a huge headache of paperwork that would slow down the investigation to a crawl, but I agree with you something should be done about it."

"So what now," Rita asked.

"Well, if we go and investigate, you being a civilian and me being an Auror, you'll go to jail and I'll be out of a job," Amelia admitted.

"So because we have no right to do this, we can't do something right. Wow, I try and be a good person for once in my life and this is what happens. Yay justice," She said sarcastically.

"Well, if we could get a reporter to investigate the situation then the outcome could change." Amelia mused.

"Pfft, fat lot of good that'll do," Rita scoffed. "I basically incendio'd that bridge a few hours ago at the Daily Prophet."

"Well, there are other options," Amelia suggested. Rita went slack-jawed as she understood the implied plan.

"Noooo, you can't mean," Rita looked at the red-head. "Come on, that's, please, anything but that."

Amelia tried not to smile but it was fun to tease a journalist with the idea of working with him.

"Hello, welcome to The Quibbler," Mr. Lovegood said as he opened the door of his strange home slash business.