Burnt

Chapter 2

Harry was standing in Dumbledore's office, the mysterious magical artefacts that were rumoured to have once belonged to the Peverell family whirring in the uncomfortable silence.

"Professor, couldn't I stay at Hogwarts this summer, or go to the Weasleys from the beginning?" Harry asked, looking at his hands as he fiddled with his fingers, clearly uncomfortable or scared.

"Absolutely not, my boy. The Dursleys is the safest place for you, even if things went a little odd last summer." Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling, but as Harry wasn't looking at him, he didn't know how scathing Dumbledore's gaze was.

Harry took in a shaky breath, playing with the hem of the too large, tatty t-shirt he was wearing. He looked like he was terrified of what he was about to say, but he was getting himself ready.

"Professor, I'm not safe with the Dursleys, they starve me, overwork me and hit me. I'm not allowed to ask questions, not allowed anywhere near my school things, Hedwig is only allowed out so she doesn't make noise because people know about her already and they can't kill her." Harry said, his voice sounding more throaty than usual as though he was fighting back tears.

"Harry, my boy, I know you might not like it there, but the blood protection your mother left you makes Petunia's house the safest place for you. She's your mother's sister, she loves you. Besides, how can you ask to stay here over the summer knowing who the last person to ask that was, we don't want people thinking you're like him, right?" Dumbledore said, looking over his neatly crossed fingers at the boy who was far too small for his age.

"No, sorry professor." Harry said quietly, looking at his feet as he walked out, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

Fudge would have slapped Dumbledore if the memory wasn't changing already. Why hadn't he seen it before, Harry Potter was abused, how could his magical guardian not do anything about it? And blood protection? What a joke. Everyone knew that was a myth that came from old records before they knew what magic was really caused by a sacrificial death.

When one person dies for another their magic gets passed onto them, it will form a protective barrier over them to fend off every magical attack, or contact with the original person who intended to harm them, but the worse state the carrier of the magic was in, the more of the magic would be used to repair wounds or to cause distractions.

"Not dead yet then?" Vernon said gruffly, looking down at Harry with displeasure, the teen boy knowing better than to look up and meet his eye.

"No, sir." Harry muttered, setting his stuff in the boot of the car, trying to be careful with it so it didn't get thrown around too much on the journey home, not that it would matter much, his things would end up beaten enough for 5 car journeys along winding roads when they got back to the house.

"Heard they almost caught that murderer. Be honest with me, boy, he's one of your lot isn't he" Vernon asked the boy, getting right in his face, Harry clearly trying not to flinch from both the spit in his face and the malice behind his tone.

"He's my godfather, and he will be writing to me over the summer, to make sure I'm doing well." Harry said, quietly, pushing past Vernon to get into the back passenger seat behind the driver so Vernon couldn't do anything to him.

Vernon looked slightly pale when he got into the car, glaring at Harry through the mirror.

"Is this true? Is Black Potter's godfather?" Fudge asked, Chris was more likely to know than him. If it was true it could cause problems, with Harry's confundus not seeming to have worn off, it could convince the poor boy that Black was someone he could trust, and that would likely end badly.