As Long As The Raven Flies

Warnings: Time-travel. Dark/Cunning Harry. Neville as the boy-who-lived. This story will not be Slash.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe. Everything you recognise belongs to J.K. Rowling.

A/N: I've had this idea in my head for years and even started writing the first chapter a couple of years ago but never finished it. I have an outline of what is going to happen in each chapter but I do not have hours to write each day so updates won't be super-fast. The first chapter is going to be cliché, I can't help it so bear with me. This is my first Harry Potter fic, since my native tongue isn't English and I don't have a beta yet I apologise for grammar or spelling mistakes. If you're interested in beta-ing feel free to send me a private message.

Prologue

1981

October 31 was a day of celebrations and mourning for the Wizarding world. It was the day that Light prevailed over Dark. It was also the day Neville Longbottom was proclaimed saviour of the Wizarding world and the day the Dark Lord fell.

It was supposed to be a day that announced a new age for the Wizarding world, the end of an era of bloodshed and grieve.

The Dark Lord's fall was cause for joy and celebrations all over Britain but while some were celebrating others were desperately trying to escape the prosecution they would certainly face if they stayed around any longer.

The Dementors of Azkaban would forever remember the days that followed for it was a rare occurrence that they received so many new residents to feast on.

To ensure peace and prosperity in the future those suspected of associating with the losing side were called in and questioned. Often leading to a one-way ticket to Azkaban or even death if they made the mistake of struggling.

Mothers cried when their children were dragged off, pleading to take them instead of their precious offspring. Fathers blamed themselves when they saw the lifeless corpses of their progeny, slaughtered as if they were worthless cattle instead of the future.

Siblings bade farewell knowing they would probably never see each other again in this lifetime. Hoping at least one of them would survive to continue the family line.

Children looked on with wide eyes as they dragged their parents out of the house, not understanding that they would never come back.

Some had lost all hope and prepared for their final stand. In the years to come they would still whisper that Evan Rosier had died with a smile on his lips, welcoming death with open arms.

But while some were crying out of joy and others out of fear of what was to come a small babe was lying silently on the doorstep of a plain looking house in Little Whinging, Surrey.

The little boy had been left there in the dark of the night by an elderly man and women as if he was nothing more than the empty bottles of milk which lay next to him waiting for the milkman to take away.

In his small chubby hands he was holding a letter explaining the circumstances of his parents deaths a couple days earlier.

And so on October the 31st the Wizarding world heralded one child as the next Merlin while another was left on the doorstep of a family who wanted nothing to do with his kind.

Chapter One

When Sorrow Sang

Seven-year-old Harry Potter sat on an old cot in his cupboard at number four Privet Drive. It was dark and he could barely see anything but Harry knew the cupboard well enough not to hurt himself. He had been locked in his cupboard for the last two days and only let out three times a day to use the loo.

His relatives had not allowed him to eat anything but a slice of stale bread and he was starting to become really hungry, he kept quiet about that though. He had learned early on that if he stayed quiet his aunt would let him out of the cupboard sooner than when he tried to complain.

He hoped they wouldn't forget him this time though, his relatives would never admit it but he was sure it had happened before because one time they didn't even let him use the loo for a whole day.

The little boy wasn't sure why they had locked him up this time, as far as he knew he hadn't done anything wrong. Asking his aunt or uncle probably wasn't a good idea either. Knowing them they would yell and keep him locked up for a couple more days.

Little Harry had been living with his aunt and uncle for as long as he could remember. They had a son, Dudley, who was the same age as him. His aunt and uncle loved and spoiled their only child while he was treated as an unwelcome burden.

When he was younger he had often asked his aunt about his parents but every time he got yelled at or locked up for asking questions.

A couple months ago he was finally given an answer to his questions. His uncle had come home from the bar one evening and in his drunken state told Harry how his worthless father James Potter had gotten himself and his mother, Lily, killed in a car crash.

Since that night he blamed his parents for letting him end up with his relatives. He hated his relatives. While his aunt and uncle only yelled at him and made him do most of the chores in the house they allowed their son to do whatever he felt like.

His uncle sometimes even encouraged it, telling his son to beat the freakishness out of Harry. Harry wasn't sure what that freakishness was but he thought it had something to do with the strange things that seemed to happen around him.

When Harry was six his aunt decided he would start attending primary school. Dudley however didn't like the idea and rubbed chewing gum in his hair. His aunt had taken the scissors and quickly cut his hair, leaving him with almost bald spots on his head.

He had wanted to make a good impression on his peers the next day and he knew it would never happen looking like that. He had cried himself to sleep that night wishing for his hair to grow back. Miraculously that's exactly what it did, when his aunt opened the door to his cupboard the next morning she had screamed to him about what a freak he was. He had been confused at first but when he saw his reflection in one of the windows he had been overjoyed.

He couldn't stop smiling all the way to school, he was sure he would make friends without his relatives around.

Unfortunately that was not how it went. The other children made fun of his glasses and oversized clothes, which were Dudley's old clothes that Petunia had given to him. The few kids that did try to talk to him were soon scared off by Dudley and his friends.

He had hoped that not everyone would be like his relatives but they proved him wrong. They were all the same. But he was not like them, no he was different. Special. One day he swore to himself he would prove it. They would regret making fun of him all this time.

While Harry was thinking of ways to prove himself the door to his cupboard finally opened.

"Boy, you have five minutes to get yourself cleaned up before you'll help your aunt with dinner." His uncle said before he turned and walked back to the sofa to watch television with his son.

Once his uncle's back was turned Harry ran up the stairs to use the much needed bathroom. He knew that if he was not downstairs again in five minutes he would be punished. His punishments usually included not getting any decent food and after two days with barely any food he was starving.

Harry hurriedly splashed some water on his face and arms while at the same time trying to drink as much and as fast as he could.

He quietly went back downstairs to join his aunt in the kitchen. He made sure to look out for Dudley when he passed the sofa where he and Vernon were sitting. Dudley often tried to trip him when he wasn't paying attention.

When entering the kitchen he kept quiet, it was impolite to speak to aunt Petunia when not addressed first.

"Finally! What kept you so long, freak? Didn't Vernon tell you to be back downstairs in five minutes?" Aunt Petunia chastised him.

"Yes aunt Petunia," he answered respectfully while his eyes grew wide in horror. He hadn't taken longer than five minutes had he?

"Well, what's taking you so long? Don't just stand there! The vegetables still need to be cooked and roast has to be put in the oven!" She yelled at him before taking her usual seat at the table.

"Yes aunt Petunia," he mumbled before standing on his chair to start on the roast.

He knew from experience the roast would take the most time to prepare. He had been cooking for his relatives since he started primary school a little over a year ago. At first he only had to cook simple things or make sandwiches but his aunt found him old enough to let him use the stove as well now.

He had cut and burned himself quite a few times before he got the hang of it, luckily for him his cuts and burns usually disappeared during the night when he was sleeping.

Dinner passed without any incidents, he was even allowed twice the portion he usually got. His aunt was probably worried about the neighbours noticing how sickly he looked after disappearing for two days.

Later that evening when he was back in his cupboard a small smile graced his face. It was Monday tomorrow, at least it would be easier to find some quiet peace at school.

The next morning a cold and shivering Harry arrived at school.

After cleaning up the mess his cousin had made during breakfast he had found out his uncle had already left with his cousin to pick up some of Dudley's friends which meant there was no room for him in the car.

Harry didn't really care, sitting in a car with Dudley's friends wasn't an experience he liked. No he much preferred to walk to school even if that meant enduring the rain.

Harry sat at one of the desks near the back of the classroom. The classroom was colourful and had paintings and drawings they had made during class on the walls. At the front of the classroom Mrs. Jones, their teacher, had hung the alphabet since some children still had problems remembering all the letters while doing their daily writing exercises.

He always sat at the same desk, away from the rest of the class so they could not disrupt him and allowing him to look outside. Since he was often bored during the lessons he was always looking outside.

At first glance it did not seem as if anything interesting could be seen through the window except some trees but Harry quickly realized something was always happening in those gnarled willows.

Whether it was a bird building a nest or a cat waiting for an unlucky chick to fall out of it Harry found it a lot more pleasant than spending time with his classmates.

At first Mrs Jones had tried to get him to socialise with the rest of the class but gave up soon after realising that there was no love lost between the other children and Harry.

Mrs Jones knew Harry was often bullied by his cousin and his friends. She had tried to talk to Dudley's parents about it but they made her quite clear that they did not believe their son was at fault and threatened to file a complaint against her. She kept quiet after that but often allowed the sweet child to stay in the classroom during breaks.

"Now children don't forget we're going to the library after lunch so I want all of you to think about what kind of book you want to read this week," She told them before the bell rang.

She sighed as she saw Harry Potter shuffling towards her desk when all the other children had already left her classroom as if the devil was at their heels.

"Could I stay and eat my lunch here ma'am?" he asked while looking at the blackboard behind her.

"Not today Harry, I'm sorry. I have a staff meeting during lunch and you know I'm not allowed to let you stay here without a supervisor," She told the child.

"Of course ma'am, I apologise for keeping you."

Harry turned away, hidings the emotions on his face. He knew she did not make the rules but it didn't stop him from being disappointed.

Unlike his previous teachers, who either tried to ignore him as much as possible or cuddle him to death , Mrs Jones gave him personal attention while still keeping her distance. He didn't like it when people tried to cuddle him out of pity but he didn't deny that once in a while it felt quite nice to get some positive attention for a change.

Mrs Jones looked on as the small child turned and left her classroom, hoping he would be left alone today.

Harry was running as fast as his legs could move. As soon as he had left the classroom Dudley and his gang started chasing him. 'Harry Hunting' was one of their favourite games and the only thing keeping Harry safe at the moment was the fact that he could run faster than his obese cousin. He had been running for over fifteen minutes and he knew couldn't keep this up any longer. In his panic he ran into a corridor with a dead-end.

Don't let them find me. Please let me be somewhere else. He desperately thought while standing in the corner. He closed his eyes waiting for Dudley and his cronies to arrive but instead of feeling the punch of a fist he felt something similar to a pull at his navel accompanied by a strange popping sound. Cautiously he opened his eyes only to find himself standing on what appeared to be the roof of the building.

"How did I get up here?" he asked aloud.

He turned around as fast as he could, almost tripping over his own feet in the process, when he heard someone chuckle behind him.

At first he thought perhaps Dudley was there but instead a man was sitting on what appeared to be a chimney as if it were a throne.

The man looked as if he was in his late thirties and was wearing something that looked remarkably like an oversized bathrobe. His appearance was unkempt, his raven black hair which was held back with some sort of clasp was sticking out in certain places. It looked as if the man hadn't bothered to shower in a couple of days. Harry was pretty sure he could smell the man if he tried hard enough, not that he was going to of course that would just be rude and probably stupid as well. The man didn't look very nice at all, he was looking down at Harry with a sneer as if he wasn't worth his time.

Harry involuntarily took a step back, "Who are you? And what are you doing here?"

The man smirked, "It's impolite to ask one's name without introducing yourself child. Didn't anyone bother to teach you manners or are you too stupid to remember them? The name's Henry though. As for what I am doing up here I believe I am doing the same thing as yourself."

Harry looked at the man warily, not sure if he should feel insulted or afraid. Did the man mean he was running away from bullies? He didn't look as if he couldn't protect himself. Instead he looked more like the bullying type of person. Or maybe the man meant he was hiding. That seemed a lot more believable. Was the man going to attack him? He had heard his aunt talk to one the neighbours about children who got assaulted while playing in the park when their parents weren't paying attention. He wasn't sure what happened to the children but he knew it wasn't anything good.

"Stop worrying child, I'm not here to hurt you," the man said as if he knew exactly what Harry was thinking.

"Now why don't you tell me why you are up here instead of playing with the other children?"

"I...I don't like the other children," Harry mumbled looking at his feet as if they were the most interesting thing he had ever seen.

"Don't look at your feet boy, look at the person you're talking to and speak clearly!" The man snarled at him.

"I don't like the other children," Harry repeated more clearly while staring defiantly into the man's eyes. In the days to come he would often think that the man's eyes looked remarkably like his own.

"Why not?"

"They follow Dudley like little puppies and do everything he tells them to because they're afraid he might turn on them. They're too scared to stand up for themselves and bully me because they don't want it to happen to themselves," Harry answered, half expecting the man to get angry for speaking so boldly.

The man glanced at him for a second before chuckling once more. Noticing that the man wasn't going to say anything else or hurt him Harry sat himself on the ground and ate the half sandwich his aunt had allowed him to take that morning.

An apple sailed through the air at full speed and only thanks to his fast reflexes Harry managed to catch it. He gave a grateful smile but kept quiet not wanting to disrupt the man while he was obviously thinking. They sat in silence for a while as both child and adult had no use for small talk.

Harry knew lunch break was almost over so he had to get down. He stood up looking around for a way to get down again.

The man noticed the boy looking around for a way down, "There's a fire escape ladder over there."

"Lunch break is almost over so I should get down again before Mrs Jones comes looking for me," Harry explained.

Henry nodded once and held out his hand, "Take it, perhaps it will bring you better luck than it did for me. Keep it safe. "

Harry held out his hand and looked at what Henry had dropped in it. It was a simple necklace, a leather thread with a dark flat stone on it. It was rather small but Harry could see some sort of symbol carved on it with several smaller ones around it.

"What does the symbol mean?"

"It's called a Rune, you can look it up when you're at the library."

Harry's eyes grew wide, how did he know he was going to the library? He hadn't said anything about it, had he?

"You better hurry if you don't want to be late," The man told Harry, effectively making him forget about what he was thinking.

"Thank you sir," Harry said before running towards the ladder.

As soon as Harry's head disappeared a small pop could be heard and where the man, had been only moments before there was nothing but an empty roof and air.

Harry was so excited during the walk to the library he didn't even care that Dudley kept trying to trip and shove him. He had never before received a gift and the necklace he now wore around his neck made him tingle with excitement.

He knew the man would not have given it to just anyone, it was only for him. He didn't know why but the necklace already felt as if it were part of him, making him feel more energized then in a long time.

It was the first time ever that Harry felt as if someone really cared for him, as if he was more than just a freak. He knew people like Mrs Jones liked him but she was just doing her job and when school was over she just went home and forgot about him until she saw him again the next day.

"Please quiet down for a minute children!" Mrs Jones said while trying to get the children in a circle so they could all hear her, "You've got 40 minutes to find one book you want to read this week, once you get your book come show it to me so I can see if it's acceptable for your level. Did everyone hear me?"

"Yes Mrs Jones," The children replied in chorus while trying to decide which bookshelves they wanted to look at first.

"Right then off you go and remember; no running or screaming!" The teacher said with a fond smile on her face.

Unlike the other children Harry was more subdued and took his time looking through the books for his age.

The first time Mrs Jones took them to the library he hadn't taken a book because he knew his aunt and uncle wouldn't like him taking books into the house let alone read them.

When Mrs Jones had asked him about it he had tried to pretend he didn't like reading. She could see right through his lie but instead of asking more questions about it she had just told him he could keep the book in the classroom and read it during lunch.

After that he always made sure to get a book that was thick enough so he could read it all week instead of taking a book with more pictures than words like some of the other children did.

"What's wrong Harry? Do you have trouble finding a book you'd like to read?"

He jumped a little since he hadn't heard his teacher come up behind him but there she was looking at the books over his shoulder.

"I'm not sure ma'am. There is something I'd like to read up on but I'm not sure if there's anything like it around here,"

"Well why don't you tell me about it so we can look around? I'm sure we can come up with something,"

"I watched this documentary on the telly a couple of days ago and it had something to do with these strange symbols. I believe they called them runes. Do you happen to know anything about them ma'am?" No harm in telling a little lie, after all he couldn't just tell her about the man on the roof.

"Runes Harry? Well I'm sure the library has some books on them but are you sure you don't want something else to read Harry? I'm sure we can find a good story for you read," Mrs Jones asked. She wasn't sure what a boy of his age could do with a book on runes, he probably couldn't even understand half the words used.

"No Ma'am I'd really like a book on them,"

"All right then but if they're too difficult for you to understand we're coming back to find you a story. Let's ask the nice lady at the reception on where we can find them," Mrs Jones replied.

After receiving directions and a strange look from the librarian they found the correct bookshelf. There weren't many books on runes but after looking through some mythology books they found one with several runes and their description.

"I'd like to read this one Ma'am," Harry said while looking at several of the symbols. He didn't see the one of his necklace at first glance but there were several pages so perhaps his would be in there.

"All right Harry, why don't you head back to the reception while I help the rest of your class," Mrs Jones answered. She didn't know why Harry would want that book but at first glance there were several pictures and drawings so he should be able to keep himself busy with it for the next week.

The next days passed in a blur for Harry. At home he did his chores for the Dursleys while trying his best not to make any mistakes. At school the hours went by while Harry looked at his favourite willows. It was spring and the birds were busy building their nests and taking advantage of the abundance of food. He could barely wait until lunch break so he could read in his book again.

He had decided not to skip directly to the part about the runes but read the book from the beginning. It held several stories on Norse mythology, how they believed the world was created and their Gods. He couldn't understand some of the more difficult words but Mrs Jones would often explain them to him.

He first stumbled across the mention of runes when reading the story of Odin, or Wodan, and the tree Yggdragsil and how Odin received the knowledge of runes. He didn't think the stories were true but they fascinated him and it wasn't long before he came to the part about the runes.

He had studied the necklace every time he got the chance for it which wasn't that often really since he didn't want anyone seeing it. He didn't know why but it felt as if it wasn't supposed to be shared with anyone else. The idea of anyone taking it from him or even looking at it made him angry without any obvious reason.

The assumption at first glance that the necklace was just a stone with a large rune and some smaller ones around it seemed to be incorrect. It appeared as if the whole surface of the stone was covered in small symbols and runes, some could be barely seen. Harry wondered how it was possible to create something so detailed on such a small surface.

Harry didn't think it was possible to figure out what each symbol and rune meant but he was convinced he could find out what the large rune on the front side of the stone meant. It didn't take long before he managed to find the rune in his book, it seemed it was quite a common one.

It had several meanings which made it impossible for Harry to know what exactly it was supposed to mean but he made a list of all the things it could be. He didn't think it was used in the sense of vacation though so that was the first one he scratched.

At the end of the week Harry was disappointed. For every rune he found in his book there were several meanings. He felt as if he wasted his time looking for answers the book would never be able to give him. Mrs Jones wasn't able to help him along either, she told him that with the passing of time the meaning of runes disappeared making it impossible to know exactly what everything was supposed to mean.

Harry wasn't going to give up though. He had told himself he would find the answer and he didn't plan to stop looking until he found it. But for now he was content to keep it hidden under his clothes, the cool surface touching his chest and making him feel as if everything was possible.

He should have known he couldn't keep the necklace hidden forever. Dudley had seen the leather thread around his neck when on their way home from school. He hadn't said anything so far but he had smiled at him before continuing his way.

He knew Dudley wouldn't keep quiet about it though, sooner or later it would come up and he would get in trouble. In this case it would probably be the former, Dudley never was very good at keeping things quiet.

He should have hidden it at school but now it was too late. Dudley was in front of him with aunt Petunia and they would notice if he disappeared, even if it was only for a couple of minutes. No all he could do was wait and hope his aunt would give him chores in the garden. That way he could hide the necklace and pretend he never had it. He would get punished of course since his aunt and uncle wouldn't believe him but at least the necklace would be safe.

He was nervous, his hands were clammy and he could feel the sweat on his brow. If he didn't relax soon his aunt would know immediately that something was wrong but even his necklace couldn't calm him. He had noticed over the past days that it never warmed up it was always cold to the touch but now it seemed almost hot. If he didn't know any better he would say it felt that something was wrong but he knew that was just his imagination.

"Get inside boy, I have better things to do than waiting for you all day," his aunt was waiting for him in the doorway. He hadn't noticed they were home already. He was still nervously sweating when passing his aunt.

"Get yourself cleaned up and then come downstairs to start dinner. Your uncle will be home early tonight so you better hurry," she sneered at him.

"Yes aunt Petunia," he replied while keeping his head down. Henry may have told him it were bad manners but his aunt and uncle certainly didn't like it if he looked at their faces while replying.

He rushed into the bathroom to wash his face and do his business before going back downstairs. He briefly entertained the idea of hiding the necklace in the house but he knew they would find it and be in even more trouble.

There wasn't enough time to cook dinner on his own so his aunt helped him in the kitchen. Vernon wanted his food on the table when he got home so they prepared everything as fast as possible. His aunt never spoke to him unless it was necessary and Dudley was in the living room watching telly but he still couldn't focus enough to find an excuse for the necklace. They wouldn't believe him if he said he found it. People didn't just walk around with these kind of necklaces, let alone lose them.

No he would just have to figure it out during dinner. It was too late now anyway his aunt was already setting the table and he could hear his uncle talking to Dudley in the living room. He would think of something, he had to.

It happened during dessert. Perhaps Dudley had waited until now so he could enjoy the scene that would certainly follow with some ice cream.

"So Dad, did you know Harry has a new necklace?"

"A necklace? What kind of necklace boy? And where did you get it?" his uncles beady eyes zeroed in on him.

"Pierce said he heard Mrs Jones complaining to another teacher on how hers was stolen..." Dudley said before he could even open his mouth to say something.

"You stole from your teacher? You ungrateful brat! Give me that necklace!" his uncle yelled at him. His aunt had stood up from her chair and was standing behind Vernon, glaring at him as if she never expected any better.

"N.. no, I didn't steal it I swear! It was a gift!" he stuttered. He could see Dudley smiling at him, he was enjoying this. He stood up trying to get away from his uncle who was advancing on him.

"A gift? Who would want to give you anything? Now hand over that necklace to your uncle boy before things get worse," his aunt sneered.

They had moved into the living room by now and he was starting to panic. He couldn't lose his necklace, it was his. He just knew Henry had trusted him to keep it safe. When he saw his uncle come even closer his fight or flee instinct kicked in and he made a run for it.

The only room with a lock was the bathroom so he ran up the stairs. Or at least tried to, halfway up his uncle grabbed his leg and he fell down his chin hitting the stairs before tumbling down.

He wasn't sure what happened afterwards. His head felt like it would explode any moment, he could taste blood in his mouth and his right arm hurt like hell. He didn't know what was happening but he could feel his uncle touch his neck taking something off. He couldn't remember what it was though, the pain making it impossible to think clearly.

In the background he could hear a women screaming about the freaks but he didn't know what she was talking about. Nothing made sense any more.

He woke up in the dark. For a moment he wasn't sure where he was but then the smell of his cupboard reached his nose. He had trouble remembering what had happened the past few days. He remembered fighting over something and falling down the stairs. He had woken up a few times after that, his aunt had checked on him a couple times a day.

His necklace!

In his panic he moved his arms to see if he could find it anywhere. He cried out in pain when his right arm touched his chest. Pain exploded behind his eyes. He tried putting it down as gently as he could before continuing his search with just his left hand. He felt his hope die when he couldn't feel it around his neck any more, his uncle must have taken it. He wasn't going to give up yet though and tried feeling around in his cupboard without moving his body.

He found it in a corner near his head. His uncle or aunt must have thrown it in after they dragged him inside. Perhaps they figured out it was worthless and decided to give it back to him. He didn't care though he clutched it in his left hand and laid it on his chest before falling back to sleep.

He woke up several times after that, he wasn't sure what day it was but he didn't think a lot of time had passed yet. He still couldn't move his arm and he could still taste his blood in his mouth. In fact he was sure his hands were bleeding as well, he couldn't see it in the dark of his cupboard but he could feel how sticky they were when he tried closing them.

His necklace was still clutched in his left hand. When he was awake he started talking to it. Whispering silly things to keep his mind of the pain. He was probably getting sick because he swore the stone kept getting warmer and warmer. He wouldn't let go though it was the only thing he had.

"I wonder what your purpose is. I never thought your meaning was 'vacation' but a vacation sounds nice. I was never allowed to go on vacation with them you know? I have to stay with the cat lady across the street," he whispered in the dark.

"Maybe you could mean 'travel', I'd love to travel with you. We could see the world together, without the Dursleys of course," he giggled. He felt light-headed as if he had no energy left. Perhaps he should close his eyes again, yes sleep did sound pretty good right now.

He never noticed the stone in his hand almost burning nor did he notice the popping noise with which he disappeared from his cupboard under the stairs...