Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10170119.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage, Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Harry_Potter/Severus_Snape
  Character:
      Harry_Potter, Severus_Snape
  Additional Tags:
      Explicit_Language, Chan, Slash_sex, Gender_Change, Out_of_Character,
      Sexual_Content, Alternate_Universe, Drama, First_Time, Hurt/Comfort,
      Romance
  Collections:
      HPFandom
  Stats:
      Published: 2009-11-08 Words: 1827
****** Revenant ******
by scapegoat [archived by HPFandom_archivist]
Summary
     Revenant n. - person returning after supposed death or long absence;
     ghost. Harry has been missing since he was 10. A young man appears at
     Hogwarts in what should be his 7th year but he's not what they were
     expecting. Story is A/U and deals with transgender topics.
Notes
     Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally
     archived at HP_Fandom, which was closed for health and financial
     reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its
     works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I
     e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but
     may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator,
     please contact me using the e-mail address on HP_Fandom_collection
     profile.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned
by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury
Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is
being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author note: The story is un-beta'd. I will have read through the chapters a
number of times but I doubt I'll catch every mistake. Enjoy.
The roar of an aeroplane flying overhead is what woke him. Laying in the field
during his break was not the smartest decision. Having had little sleep the
night before from vivid nightmares or forgotten memories waking him only a
short while after finally getting to bed. Harry was familiar with it now, not
getting much sleep. Some nights he did not even try at all and would spend the
night working on something or other hoping it would give him more time in the
day. That extra time he collected for the day light was usually spent having
cat naps in the fields during his breaks or lunch hour. That tends to be the
only time he can sleep peacefully. Some might counter that, claiming it must be
impossible to sleep soundly with aeroplanes flying by every ten or so minutes.
Just like the lack of sleep, it had become familiar. The roar of the engines
had become slightly dull compared to the first time he heard it.
Walking to the book shop he thought back to all the families he was thrust upon
when he was younger. People always said that it would be different. No matter
how many times it happened before, he was always told it would be different. He
was by no means a stupid child. After the second doorstep he was pushed onto he
knew it would always be the same. There was not much point in hoping anymore.
He had his wish granted once, it was not going to be granted again. That is
what makes wishes so special, isn't it? They would not be special if they were
handed out willy-nilly to whom ever wished for something.
It was late. Later than when he was supposed to be back at the shop. Harry had
closed the shop for the night a couple hours ago. He usually took his naps in
the field but he did not plan on falling asleep today. He knew he had to be
back on time and yet he drifted off to sleep anyway. He shrugged it off. He
needed the energy for what he was planning tonight. Things had not been going
well. People had found out. He knew it would happen eventually. The older woman
he worked for was as nosy as they come.
He was paid for his work with a musty couch to sleep on in the store room and
the occasional meal. He not only did work in the book shop. Before and after
store hours he cleaned and cooked for Judith. That was her name, Judith Hall. A
widow, though people whispered about her husband leaving with another woman and
other such nonsense that she ignored. She was not a horrible woman to work for
and live with. At least she was not horrible in the beginning. Once she got
suspicious she became completely frigid compared to the quiet cold when he
first met her. Always making it a point to tell him she was doing him a favour
by letting him work at the book shop as well as live under her roof. She must
have saw herself as some kind of saint for what she was doing for him.
As he expected, when he walked through the back door he could hear her shoes
clicking down the stairs as if she was waiting at a window on the second floor.
Scowl fixed on her face, "It's about time you came back, Mr. Westfield. I've
been waiting for my dinner for over an hour."
"Yes. I'm sorry, ma'am. I must have lost track of time. Most of what I had
prepared for dinner can be quickly put together. I'll go finish it now," Harry
replied quietly hoping to avoid a fight.
"Hurry up then! I have things to do after dinner and I don't need you wasting
time standing by the door all night," she barked.
Scurrying into the small kitchen he assembled the simple dinner. He needed all
the time he could get so he had let a stew simmer on the stove before he left
for his break and bought a couple round loaves of bread at the market the day
before to use as bread bowls.
After chopping the tops of the bread loaves off and brushing olive oil on the
inside, he placed them in the oven to bake for fifteen minutes. He used those
fifteen minutes by preparing a light salad to go with the stew and set the
table.
The dishes were placed in the rack to dry after dinner. He went and locked the
back and side door. On his way to the store room he bid Mrs. Hall goodnight.
Crawling onto the old couch he waited. He heard her shoes clicking as they
always do up the stairs. Pulling a book out of his rucksack he sat and read for
a while making sure that when he made his run she would be fast asleep in bed.
It was 11:47 P.M. when he placed his book back into his rucksack. There was
nothing for him to pack. He always kept his things in his bag. Less chance of
someone finding out that way. Slipping his wooly jumper on he crept out of the
store room to the side door. Finally out of the small book shop he walked down
the road. There was a bus stop but he did not want to risk being seen at the
bus stop or riding the bus with someone who lived in the village. He would walk
through the night to the next town and catch a bus there. He was not sure where
he was running to.
He was not sure why he was afraid of being caught leaving. He was always afraid
when leaving a town. After running away from foster homes as a kid, he seemed
to get that rush of being followed when he knew he was not.
It was almost one o'clock when he heard the car coming down the road from
behind him. He was not that far out of town since he had taken to strolling
more than walking. The car would have already seen him so there was no point in
trying to hide in the trees that were sprinkled on the side of the road. He
hoped they would just pass if he continued to walk as if nothing was wrong.
Luck was not on his side tonight. The car came to a crawl beside him and he
looked out of the corner of his eye and his stomach fell. It was Nicky Dawson's
car. Ever since he came to the village Nicky had been unfriendly.
The window rolled down and he could see there were two other people in the car
with him.
"Hey freak, where do you think you're off to?" Nicky spoke from the driver's
seat.
"Just leave me alone, alright?" Harry bit out through clenched teeth.
The young man in the passenger seat leaned forward. "Oh come on Westfield. We
just want to have some fun. Why don't you just get in the car? It can't be safe
for you to be walking out here alone at night," he said with a slight leer.
Harry's anger boiled over. He was sick of their harassment.
"Leave me the fuck alone! I don't need a ride so get out of here."
The car screeched to a halt, doors opened, and the three young men scrambled
out. Harry's chest tightened, thinking it may not have been the best idea to
let his anger get the best of him.
"How dare you speak to us like that you freak," Nicky growled before roughly
grabbing Harry's wrist.
"Let go of me!" Harry yelled, yanking his arm loose.
Stepping quickly away deeper into the trees Harry caught his foot on something
thick and fell backwards. He tumbled down a slight ditch landing on his bag.
The tittering of the other boys came with the sounds of their shoes sliding
down the ditch to stand by Harry's body. Although he was not hurt, he hoped
they were trying to scare him. Maybe if he acted like he hurt something they
would leave him alone. Fleeing the scene of their crime. They seem the type,
Harry thought.
Nicky stepped with his feet straddling Harry's waist, bending his knees swiftly
to land on Harry's pelvis with a grunt.
"You think you can just skip town after all you did?" the larger boy
challenged.
"W-what I did? What did I do?"
"What did you do? Don't play stupid!" one of the other boys yelled but a look
from Nicky shut him up with a frown.
Nicky peered down at Harry with an indescribable look. "I always knew there was
something up with you. Just showing up in town one day out of the blue."
There was no doubt in Harry's mind now. They knew. If he didn't get away from
them soon, he wasn't sure what was going to happen.
The smaller boy started flailing his arms and legs, getting a good couple
punches in before his was held down by the two other boys.
Once Nicky wiped the blood from his nose he locked eyes with Harry, teeth bared
in a vicious snarl.
The first blow barely registered in Harry's mind. He had been hit before but
never straight on in the face. The second and third blows came next. One to the
cheek and the other his eye. Fire bloomed in his skull. Finally coming out of
the shock he resumed his struggling. Rocking his lower body to the side he
caused Nicky to lose his balance in the midst of a strike, landing it on the
side of his neck. The assailant got to his feet, continuing the beating with
his heavy shoes and letting the other boys join in. Lacking the energy to
struggle anymore he curled in on himself protecting his ribs and face.
When it happened it was incredible. He could see a bright light flash through
his eye lids which were scrunched tight. It felt as if he was drifting and yet
not moving at all. He could not feel the ground that was under his body just
moments before. Then like a jolt he was cold. He was so cold. Why was he so
cold? He could not find an answer in his clouded mind. He was so tired. He
could not move. Senses dull, he fell into unconsciousness.
TBC
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