Good Run of Bad Luck

By Ammie Hawk

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Original Plot Bunny: Harry is kidnapped by Death Eaters and de-aged, when, as he attempted to escape, he was hit with several curses at once. He ends up lost and wandering the street, only to be picked up by the Preventers. His DNA is entered into the system and found to match Trowa's. At first they think Harry's his son, until they realize that it wouldn't work for some reason. (Possibilities: Trowa's never slept with a woman; Trowa's too young to have a child Harry's supposed age; the child's DNA is almost identical to Trowa's, not really possible in father-son.)

Further investigation matches Harry's DNA with the Dursleys. There they discover the Potters had twins, one of whom died years ago with their parents, the other who is the spitting image of chibi-Harry. All that does is make the pilots even more confused, especially as there are no/very few records of James and Lily Potter or their son, Harry.

AN: Okay, so another random plunny that bit me. This story takes place post DH and post EW, only a few things about HP changed, but they will be explained really soon. Anyway, on with the fic.

Prologue: Chibified

Harry Potter groaned as he opened his eyes. What hit him? The last thing he remembered was talking to the portraits of Snape and Dumbledore in the Headmaster's office and thinking about a nice warm bed. However, he could tell by the cool feeling of stone on his cheek that this was not his bed in Gryffindor Tower.

'Was it all a dream?' he thought, sitting up and rubbing his head. Did he just imagine the battle at Hogwarts and defeating Voldemort once and for all? He glanced down at the blood-splattered and battle worn clothes and decided that no, he hadn't in fact dreamed it. But that did not explain where the fuck he was now.

Just as the thought entered his brain, a door to his left creaked open. He squinted up at two blurry figures and then realized his glasses were missing.

"Oh, look, he's awake," came a familiar haughty female voice that he couldn't quite place.

"So he is," said the other, more familiar female voice, only this one he knew instantly.

"Ginny?" he shook his head, trying to clear it. "What's going on? Where are we?"

"We'll be the ones asking the questions here, Harry," she scoffed, this did not sound like the Ginny he knew. "Now, I'm going to ask this once, and only once, before my companion here gives you the nice potion we've spent the past few months brewing; Harry Potter, will you take me back and make me your wife?"

"No, Ginny," green eyes blinked at her in shock, they'd been through this before he left the Burrow on the Horcrux hunt. "I don't love you. And no, it's not me being noble, I don't. I care, yes, you're like a little sister to me, but I won't pretend to be more than that. We had a fling at Hogwarts, that's all it was."

The redhead was at his side in an instant, and her hand shot out and slapped him across the face. The other girl quickly hurried to her side and pulled her back.

"We can't hurt him yet," she said contemptuously. "We'll have the rest of our lives to do that. Shall we follow my plan now?"

"O-Of course," Ginny was shaking with what Harry assumed to be fury as he massaged his cheek, he could already feel a bruise forming. "Imperio!"

Harry felt the fog settle over his brain, but it was weak at best and he quickly shook it off.

"That doesn't work on me," he scoffed. "You two obviously didn't do your homework. Hermione would be disappointed in you, Ginny."

"Petrificus Totalus!" the other voice shouted. "Sometimes you are too stuck up for your own good. Now, you're going to be a good little boy and drink this nice potion we brewed just for you."

She leaned over and forced the goblet to his mouth. He could now make out the slightly squashed nose and round face of Pansy Parkinson. What the fuck was Ginny doing with her? He swallowed the liquid that was poured down his throat, it was either that or drown in it. The last coherent thought that permeated his brain before blackness stole over him was why were they doing this? What did they hope to accomplish?

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The next time Harry woke he was in a different room entirely. He reached automatically for his glasses, but his hand hit the blankets instead. He sat up, his eyes blinking rapidly as he took in his amazingly clear surroundings. Perhaps the potion they gave him had fixed his eyes, but he somehow doubted that was their intent.

He knew this room. It was the one he shared with Ron the summer before his fifth year. He was at Grimmauld Place!

He moved to the edge of the bed and it was then that the full extent of what they'd done hit him. He'd been shrunk! He looked down at his short little arms and legs, which he was embarrassed to note had been clad in dark green footed pajamas. What were those girls playing at? This wasn't funny!

He slipped off the bed and ran over to the mirror in the room, having to drag the desk chair over just to be able to see himself properly. He gaped openly at the face that stared back at him. It was still his but... but... but it was the face of a baby! Why would they do that?

He had expected something else from them, like a love potion, then at least his friends would know that something was wrong with him! What were they going to do with him as a baby?! Was this some twisted game of house?

To his utter embarrassment, his lower lip began quivering and tears pooled in his eyes. Great, now he was going to cry! To further add insult to injury the door opened at that moment and his captors walked in. He took a shuddering breath, trying to stop his tears, but all this accomplished was to draw their attention to his exact position. They both rushed over to him, but it was Pansy who lifted him into her arms.

"There, there, Harlen," she said in a sickening imitation of a mother's coo, "Mummy's got you."

"Noo," to his mortification it came out as a whine.

Ginny let out an exasperated sigh, and took him away from the Slytherin, "Don't listen to Aunt Pansy, Harlen, you're safe now."

Harry's mind was scrambling for purchase. Why were they calling him Harlen? They both knew his name. And why were they pretending they were some form of parental figure to him? Unless... What if they thought he'd lost his memory as well? Hmm... he could use this to his advantage.

"NOOOOO!" he wailed, his tiny arms and legs flailing in a tantrum worthy of Dudley Dursley.

To his great relief, the redhead dropped him, unable to keep hold of his squirming form. That was all he needed. As soon as his feet hit the floor, he darted out the still open door, narrowly avoiding Pansy's groping hands.

His cloth clad feet slipped slightly on the hardwood flooring of the hallway, but he managed to stay upright. He proceeded to scramble his way down the stairs, desperate to leave those two crazy ladies behind.

"Sto...!"

Pansy's voice was quickly muffled and he heard Ginny hiss about waking the cow. This gave him a brilliant idea.

"KREACHER!" he screamed as he passed the curtained portrait of Sirius' mother.

A house-elf appeared just as the curtains flew open and Mrs. Black began screeching.

"Kreacher," Harry said, still making his way down the stairs, "slow them up, while I get out, then keep them out of the house!"

"Yes, master," the house-elf nodded, throwing up some elf magic behind them.

Harry finally made it to the ground floor, and sprinted as fast as his little legs could carry him to the door. He regretted waking Mrs. Black as he felt several spells hit him from behind as he fumbled with the doorknob. He had no idea what they had done, but he was still on his feet and in his right mind and that was all that mattered. With one final pull, the door was open, and he rushed out into the street.

It was dark out, which was good for him, considering he could use the shadows to hide in. He silently thanked those two bitches for putting him in such dark clothing, it gave him the advantage. He ran and ran, for how long he wasn't sure, but he wasn't going to give those two the chance of catching him. In the back of his mind, he hoped Kreacher was okay and had managed to extricate them from the house without getting hurt in the process.

He finally came to a stop on a deserted street corner and hid himself down an alley between two buildings. His short legs had tripped him up so many times that he was now covered in filth and grime, he didn't even want to think about what it consisted of. The booties on his feet had been ripped to tatters and he could feel several cuts and blisters on his feet.

He tried to get up again, but couldn't, his body just didn't have the strength and stamina it used to. Damn those girls! He whimpered quietly. He didn't want to get caught here. He buried his face in his hands and let the tears fall as silently as he could.

What was going to happen to him now? Hermione was out of the country, retrieving her parents from Australia, with her fiance, Charlie Weasley, that had come as a surprise to everyone. The rest of the Weasley clan were still in mourning for the youngest son, Ron. That had been a tremendous blow during the final battle, watching his best friend run over and shove Fred out of the way of an oncoming spell. No one else would notice he was gone for some time, thinking he just needed some time alone to grieve and avoid the press. He let out a pathetic, whimpering sob at that thought.

"Hey, kiddo," a kind voice said from somewhere above him. "Whatcha doing out here all by your lonesome?"

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Duo Maxwell, former pilot of the Gundam Deathscythe and now a premiere Preventer agent, was frustrated. He and his partner, Heero Yuy, also a former Gundam pilot turned Preventer, had been sent to London to try and crack a terrorist case, that was supposedly packing an unknown mobile suit. The suit in question had reportedly been spotted flying over the city a little over a week ago but hadn't been seen since. He was starting to believe the whole thing was a hoax, a trap set up to ensnare a couple Gundam pilots. Though no one had tried to attack them at all.

He sighed as he turned to face his partner as they walked down the street, "Whatcha say, Hee-chan, should we tell her it's nothing and call it? I'm not even picking anything up on my O'Shit-O-Meter."

Prussian blue eyes narrowed slightly in a frown at the crude term, but he had to concede his partner's point. He could tell that there had been trouble here recently, but it was gone now. Like the residual heat from a launch or the aftermath of a Gundam.

"Hn," he nodded. There was truly no point to their being in this city any longer. The danger wasn't here.

Duo suddenly held up his hand, stopping Heero in his tracks and causing him to reach instinctively for his gun. The braided teen placed a finger to his lips and began moving down a deserted alley, his own gun now visible in the moonlight. He stealthily made his way toward the noise he'd thought he'd heard. It could just be a cat, or a stray dog, but he had to be sure.

He looked around a dumpster and, to his horror, spotted a child, no more than four or five judging by the size. The poor thing was so dirty it was hard to tell whether it was male or female at the moment, but that didn't bother him. It was the slight smell of blood that he picked up on the wind that had him concerned.

"Hey, kiddo," he said in the gentlest voice he could muster. "Whatcha doing out here all by your lonesome?"

Ammie: Okay, don't kill me, please. I know I have a lot out there... but this one couldn't be ignored. Anyway, ta.