Summary: This is Harry Potter, and Muggle, Squib or Wizard, he will defend himself. 2nd in the Sacrifice series.

Disclaimers: Harry Potter and his world is owned by J. K. Rowling. Some ideas have been borrowed from other fanfiction writers, such as that the Potters were a wealthy Pure-blood family, and the detail of 'Freak' cut into the child's chest. This story is the second in the Sacrifice Series, after 'Sacrifice for the Side of Light.' The series diverges from Canon a few days after the Triwizard Tournament, when the original Prophecy was made public.

If you have you not read Sacrifice for the Side of Light, you will find it helpful to read the brief Prologue:

Prologue:

A Prophecy was made.

Victory for the Side of Light…. Victory before the leaves fall…. A Sacrifice…. This victory depends on the sacrifice of the Marked One. Betrayed by his friends, hurt by his enemy. Subject to the Rite of Cerlikh…. When innocence is defiled, when understanding comes, his anger will be unleashed, his power released…. His anger is the key… The Marked Child of Light must know the Dark in order the vanquish the Lord of the Dark. The innocent child, shining white, in his sixteenth year, at the full of the moon. Victory for the Side of Light before the leaves fall. Shame for the Side of Light…. Shame! The innocent child lost and broken… The Child of Light lost and broken…

The lure of a quick and easy victory led Albus Dumbledore to hand Harry Potter over to Lord Voldemort for the Rite of Cerlikh. It happened exactly as prophesied, but after the power displayed, he was perceived as dangerous, so Dumbledore modified Binding Bracelets to destroy his magic. When Dumbledore died suddenly, Severus Snape replaced him as 'Demter Guardian,' and resolved to carry out the responsibility as a Demter Guardian should. Attempts were made to remove the Binding Bracelets, but failed.

After an attack by other students, Harry managed to break the magic of the Binding Bracelets, and escape, leaving evidence of bloodstained clothing close to the Acrmomantula colony. The wizarding world assumed him to be dead. Only Severus Snape, and Vance McKenzie, Chief Auror, knew that he was living as a Muggle, at Kreighley Beach Home for Boys.

****

Chapter 1:

Harry stretched and smiled as he woke. His room-mate was already up, and he turned to him, raised himself on his elbow, and said, "Congratulate me, Chris. I'm seventeen today."

Chris scratched his head, "You're fifteen, Ricky, and your birthday's in October."

"I lied slightly when I came. I reckon Davies knows it's not my real name."

"So what is it then?"

Harry grinned, and shook his head, "I far prefer Ricky Drayton."

Chris said dryly, "Only that the boss screw assumes you were a boy prostitute."

"He can assume what he likes."

Harry casually dropped his sleeping shorts to the floor, and walked naked to the showers. He was lean, fit and strong, and far bigger than he'd been when he arrived. He still didn't look as old as his true age. The semi-starvation he'd suffered when he was small had left its effects. He still wore the Binding Bracelets, looking like black leather, and marked with bright silver runes. If any Muggle ever noticed them, they'd be assumed to be decorations, Gothic style, maybe. Except for renewing the Cloaking Magic now and then, deliberately geared only for Muggles, Harry ignored them. If a wizard saw and identified him, they would see the Bracelets, and not worry that he could be dangerous. To the wizarding world, he would be a Muggle. Chris called after him, "So can I tell anyone?"

"No way!"

Later that day, four boys, including Harry and Chris, played in the surf. They were rough, shouting, splashing each other, ducking each other. Two girls lay on the beach, and one peeled her top down. The other looked at her a little shocked, especially as she was lying on her back. Amanda said airily, "I prefer an all-over tan."

Rose said, "Well, I hope you're not planning on taking the pants off!"

Amanda grinned, "Maybe."

Rose sat up, "Mandy, they're Kreighley boys! You don't know what they're capable of!"

"I want Ricky. I think he's cute."

"What about Lynette?"

"She's left town, no longer relevant."

Soon after, the boys emerged from the cold water, and joined the girls. Harry looked at Amanda, still lying on her back, and said, "You'll have sunburnt nipples."

She mock punched at him, "Here I was trying to seduce you, and all you can say is that I'll be sunburnt!"

He leaned over, kissed her on the lips, and said, "Consider me seduced. Meantime, cover yourself or you'll be too sore to be touched." Amanda smiled smugly, "Good point." She turned herself over, and he stroked the tanned back. He liked Amanda, liked Rose, liked all girls really. But when he joined her later, in privacy, he worked the anti-conception spell that would last a year. He didn't want any accidents. There was no wand used, nor an incantation. He didn't need them. Even before Voldemort had attempted the Rite of Cerlikh, Harry had been a powerful wizard. In the upsurge of anger that came as Harry felt Voldemort taking his power from him, the reverse happened. Harry took Voldemort's power for himself. Not only his power, but his knowledge of magic, his knowledge of the magical world, even his personal memories, most of which he preferred not to examine. If the wizarding world knew, he suspected they wouldn't rest until he was seen to be as dead as Voldemort and Dumbledore.

Later that day, Harry received a message to report to Ross Davies, the 'Boss.' Ross surveyed the boy, looking happy and healthy, unworried by the summons, though any other of the boys would be frantically raking through their memories, wondering what they'd done wrong. He said seriously, "Ricky, I needed to see you."

"Yes, Sir?"

Ross drummed his fingers on the desk, and looked out the window. Harry was beginning to worry, "Is something wrong, Sir?"

"We've had a gift of four of the latest computers, said to be for the senior boys."

Harry grinned, "I was saying we needed computers."

"Maybe we do. It's part of your education."

"Well, Sir?"

"It was a donation from the so-called 'Tom Foundation.' I've never been able to find out who's behind it, but it only started taking an interest in us around eighteen months ago."

"Good on them."

Ross turned to him, frankly, "Do you know anything about it, Ricky?"

"No, Sir."

Ross studied him, quite sure he was lying. He changed the subject, "Your exam results were good."

"I told you I could cope, Sir." He'd been accelerated to the Lower Sixth the previous February, and was now with his true age-mates. It had been easier to pick up the unfamiliar subjects than he'd expected.

"So, Upper Sixth this coming year, and then what?"

"I want to do a Bachelor of Arts, Sir. Maybe at Oxford."

Ross frankly laughed, "How? We can afford to have our boys complete High School, but unless you earn a Scholarship…"

"Maybe I will. My marks are good. If not, I could maybe get part-time work."

Ross studied the mystery boy, and hoped he wasn't selling himself. He changed the subject, "Young Badham has settled down now. It looked like he'd be a real problem."

"He's OK. He's started to look after Lionel a bit."

"You had a fight with him."

"You heard about that Sir?"

"There's not much I don't hear about. You're a leader, Ricky. If we had prefects here, I'd make you a prefect."

"I wouldn't want to be a prefect, Sir."

"You do realise that one day you'll have to give me your real name. Without identity documents, you can't get a job, or travel overseas, or access social security."

"I have my reasons, Sir. But I'll give it some thought."

"You do that."

Harry said seriously, "I am very grateful to you, Sir. You gave me a home, and tried to keep me safe."

"Those months when you vanished again. Surely you trust me enough to tell me where you were."

Harry looked at the floor, and then back to Ross. "I trust you as much as I trust anyone. I will not tell you where I was, except that I did not go voluntarily."

Ross looked at him a long time, and finally said, "Very well, Ricky. You may go."

"Thank you, Sir."

Harry's tone was quiet and respectful. Ross reflected that Ricky had always been respectful. He wore his hair very long, but that was the only sign of any sort of rebellion. He'd never made an issue of it, and had never had the slightest trouble from him, though many of the boys at the home had been in trouble for various minor crimes. Frank criminals and drug addicts were mostly sent to more secure institutions, but he had boys who had come from violent or criminal homes, and some who'd been streetkids, living by begging, thievery or prostitution. Ian Badham had been a borderline case, as his crime had been violent, but he was only just sixteen, and had been sent to the Home rather than a secure institution. Ross thought that Ricky was a factor in the improvement in his behaviour.

Ricky had first arrived almost two years before, after being found staggering down a road, naked and exhausted, his bare feet cut about from walking too far. There had been injuries from rape. He'd vanished again even before his feet were fully healed. Ten weeks later, he'd returned, knocking at his door in the early hours of the morning, a tattered T-shirt his only garment, worn as a loin cloth. Again, he'd refused to say what had happened to him. He'd been very thin, white with fatigue and cold, his face tired and haggard. Yet he said that he thought he was safe now, that he thought that 'They' didn't want him any more. Ross's favourite theory was that he'd been wanted for sex, but had refused to cooperate with his clients, until the mysterious 'They' had given up on him, and thrown him out.

It was a likely theory. He'd been a very attractive boy at thirteen, if that had indeed been his age. Sometimes he seemed much older, yet not long after his return, there had been an excursion to a funfair. He'd shown the uninhibited excitement of a much younger child, and divulged that he'd never been to anything like that in his life. He'd never even seen the sea until he'd come to Kreighley! Ross had found himself scheduling more excursions than usual, simply to see Ricky's child-like pleasure, and then the mysterious 'Tom Foundation' had sent the first donation, a large amount with the instruction that the boys be provided with neat, good quality clothing.

Severus Snape was also thinking about Harry that day. He was now of age. There should have been celebrations. He should have been taking possession of his inheritance. He grinned wryly to himself. If things hadn't changed so dramatically, he might have been being urged to join Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix, formed to fight Voldemort.

Yet, each time he watched him, the boy seemed content. He played soccer and other sports, he had girlfriends, and he was doing well at school. Snape kept track. Regularly, he showed himself to him. If Harry wanted, all he had to do was go to him. So far, he hadn't gone to him, not since Snape had delivered the photograph album that Harry had requested. It had been a surprise to find the false passport and a Gringotts 'Visa Card' tucked away in it. It implied that the boy had been seriously considering striking out for himself when he was just thirteen. If he had, Voldemort would still have been alive. On the other hand, Harry Potter would have still had his magic.

Snape couldn't quite understand that the boy wasn't miserable. Without magic… It would be like being crippled! But Harry had been raised in a Muggle household, so maybe, to him, it didn't seem so bad. Harry Potter should have been a great wizard, - he was the one who'd defeated the Dark Lord. But even if he'd not lost his magic, the manner of the defeat was a problem. For a wizard to be raped was a disgrace that could never be lived down.

Even now, Severus Snape considered the result worth the sacrifice of one youth. The Dark Lord dead, a war cut short scarcely before it had started, and over three hundred Death Eaters dead, presumably as a consequence of their connection to Voldemort through the Dark Mark. Snape himself had been knocked unconscious for three days, but had made a full recovery. Some had been permanently brain damaged.

The next time that Snape showed himself to Harry, Harry said something to his girlfriend, and crossed to him. Snape asked, "Nice girl?"

Harry said casually, "Mandy. Lots of local girls think that Kreighley boys might be a bit dangerous, and therefore, somehow desirable."

Snape shook his head, "Girls are always foolish."

"You told me there was an inheritance to collect. Will you please help me go to Gringotts?"

"You'll be recognised."

"I'll wear Muggle dress, jeans and a T-shirt. Short sleeves, you see, to show the Binding Bracelets. I do not expect that anyone will approach."

"A guilty conscience, do you think?"

Harry shrugged, "Maybe."

Snape nodded slightly, "You were badly treated."

"It is history. I want to see this house of my ancestors, and it's time they saw that I am still alive, but insignificant."

"You're not afraid that someone will think that you should return?"

"I very much hope that that will not happen."

"I will speak to Vance McKenzie. He's still Chief Auror."

"There's a wizard who checks on me now and then. I don't know who it is."

"It's probably McKenzie. He thought it was me who helped you."

"The one who helped me , - he was frightened of repercussions. He told me I'd probably never see him again."

"So who was it?"

Harry shrugged, "Someone who heard just how I was treated."

"You won't tell me?"

"No, Sir."

Snape asked, "Do you remember me telling you that a Demter Guardian is supposed to look after his ward as best he can?"

"I remember very well."

"You are grown-up now, but as long as you cannot access your magic, you will need me at times."

"Are you willing?"

"I am." He spoke in exactly that tone of commitment as he had that very first time he'd told Harry what a Demter Guardian was, - a guardian for Muggle-born and Muggle-raised children, to help them in the magical world where needed. Dumbledore had been Harry's Demter Guardian while he was alive, though he hadn't known it.

Harry said casually, "The scar on my forehead has faded to almost invisible."

"So has my Dark Mark, the same as the other surviving Death Eaters."

"How many survived? Would they be after me?"

"It is thought that most of the ones who survived were either very young ones, or a few who would have preferred that they were never Marked. Not as committed, and they were somehow spared, as I was."

Harry nodded, and Snape suddenly asked, "Did you try to kill Death Eaters?"

"I scarcely remember what happened. And afterward, I was never told much, never allowed to read the newspapers, and then I left, and only know what you tell me."

"Neither you nor Voldemort are spoken of, as if the subject is taboo."

"Forgotten?"

"Not forgotten, no."

"About Gringotts. It would really be better to go after school goes back, but I suppose you won't be able to take me then."

"I could speak to the Headmistress, if you wish."

"Still Professor McGonagall?"

"Her placement was confirmed a few days after you were rescued."

Harry asked curiously, "Has she made any changes?"

"Hogwarts is weighted down by tradition, but Filch has retired and been replaced, and so has Professor Binns."

"About time. He took a fascinating subject, and used it to send people to sleep. Quite an accomplishment when you think of it."

"You like History?"

"Very much. It's my favourite subject."

"If she approves, how about the second week after school goes back? Would that suit you?"

"That would suit."

"May I tell people you're alive?"

"I guess you might as well. No general announcement or anything. It might be better if the knowledge just gradually percolates.

****

To Snape's surprise, when he told the Headmistress that Harry Potter was alive, she hugged him, and declared that she'd never believed him dead. Snape regarded her with a wry smile. It was the first he'd heard of that, but McGonagall said, "I thought if he'd managed to escape, we should leave him in peace."

Snape nodded, "Someone helped him, he says, but he has no intention of telling us who."

"His magic?"

"Gone."

McGonagall sighed, "Crippled, poor boy! I'd somehow hoped…" Snape merely looked saturnine.

McGonagall marvelled for a bit longer, before turning a shrewd look on Snape, and asking why he told her now. Snape replied, "He doesn't want people to know where he is, but he's seventeen now, and he needs me to help him access Gringotts in order to claim his inheritance. There's the family home, I don't know what else. I don't expect he knows even where his parents are buried."

McGonagall said vaguely, "The main London cemetery, I think. I would have thought that someone would have shown him."

"Who? He didn't have anybody."

"Sirius, no…" She shook her head, "He always seemed so self-sufficient. He should have asked for help."

"I always assumed he was arrogant. I think now it was just that he had no expectation that an adult would help him. Albus was his Demter Guardian, and never lifted a finger in that role."

"He did arrange for him to have a home with his relatives."

"Who beat him, half-starved him, even whipped him!"

McGonagall shook her head, "They couldn't have been that bad. Albus would not have allowed it."

"He reined them in a bit when the child complained to a policeman. He told me he healed the scars at that time, but there's a spell that shows scars healed by magic. Healer Braithwaite made the spell. Those ghost scars are conclusive proof that the child was treated appallingly."

Professor McGonagall said briskly, "Well, that's all in the past. I suppose you want some time off."

"Yes please, Minerva."

"Tell people?"

"He says maybe best to let the information spread gradually. I agree."

"I doubt if he's in any danger now. Just a poor crippled kid whom no-one will care about."

"Yes."

There was no announcement of Harry's survival, not even to the other teachers.

There had been a few developments among the Hogwarts students. Neville finally had a wand that suited him, and with the increased power and confidence, his reputation as a duffer was being forgotten. He was dating a fourth year Ravenclaw. Hermione and Ron had little to do with each other any more. Ron hadn't wanted to return for seventh year, but had been too daunted by his mother to ever actually say so. He was dating Lavender Brown. Hermione spent a lot of time with the Ravenclaws, and kept up a correspondence with Vayden Carlyle, who'd left the previous year. The Carlyle family was wealthy and influential, almost as much as the Malfoys had once been. She had thoughts of marrying him, but it was not likely to happen. Hermione carried the taint of Muggle.

***chapter end***