Harry's eyes slid to the wailing baby under the seat. Memories of being that child, crying in a house filled with people who hated and feared him, choked him. Regardless of whatever Voldemort or Tom Riddle were guilty of, this unhappy baby did not deserve to suffer for his future crimes. He knelt and picked the child up. It was awkward to hold baby Tom, not least because Harry knew nothing about holding a baby. There was something about supporting the head, right?
Gently he joggled the child around until it was propped against his chest and cradled against him like a rugby ball. He cradled the child with both arms, just to be extra supportive. Dumbledore watched him with a small frown. Oddly, the sight reminded Harry of fourth year. Dumbledore had frown when Harry had told him about Voldemort using Harry's blood to get his body back. Right after he smiled.
"You planned this from the very beginning, didn't you?"
Dumbledore had the grace to look away. "Not from the very beginning."
Harry's eyes narrowed. "Maybe not from the night my parents died but you had a decade after that to plan this. That's why we had such crap Defense professors. You didn't want me to fight. You wanted me to stand there and die."
"It isn't permanent. Not for you."
Half-formed thoughts and suspicions burst into the forefront of his mind and melded together into a truly ugly theory.
"If Sirius had custody of me, then none of that would have worked. I wouldn't have been anyone's victim, ever."
"You wouldn't have had the blood protections either."
Harry snorted. "Because they kept me so safe. If Sirius hadn't got to prison without a trial – and as Chief Mugwump it was your duty to ensure that he had one! – then he would have kept me safe and in the Wizarding World. But then I wouldn't have had to rely on you. Neither would Remus."
"Harry this is all for the best! Follow my plan and everything will work out the way that it should."
"For the greater good, right?"
"Exactly."
The baby had finally stopped crying. Harry watched the boy's eyes slowly flutter shut. Dumbledore was going to leave him under a seat and crying. Dumbledore seriously believed in Grindewald's crap. He had deliberately left Sirius to rot in prison rather than getting him a trial. And Dumbledore had intended to kill Harry all along.
"Otherwise I wouldn't have known what to do."
Dumbledore smiled genially. "People so very rarely know what is best for them."
Albus Dumbledore was not the man he had appeared to be. He was nothing like the man Harry had believed in. Dumbledore had only cared for himself and his own machinations.
He was still exactly like Grindelwald.
Harry gently placed the sleeping child on a seat.
"I'm my own man, Professor. I'll decide what's best for me and follow my own plans."
Harry closed his eyes. He thought about where he wanted to go back to. With Dumbledore's shouts ringing in his ears, Harry fell through time and space.
In the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts one of the whirling silver instruments emitted a high pitched shrill. It glowed bright green for a moment then stopped. Completely.
"That's no good" said Headmaster Dippet. "Someone must go and tell Albus that young Harry Potter is in danger."
There was brief row over who was young enough or in enough need of exercise or unobtrusive enough to tell Albus. When someone was finally dispatched to interrupt the Headmaster's staff meeting, all the current headmaster said was "How extraordinary. We shall have to look in on young Mr. Potter."
"What do you mean you aren't going to let me into my vault?"
"No key, no entrance."
"I'm Harry Potter!" Harry shoved his hair off of his forehead. At the goblin's evil look, Harry lowered his voice. "Isn't there some sort of magical test you can do to prove that I am who I say I am?"
"Not until you're of age."
There was one small flaw in his current plans: Dumbledore had the key to his vault.
Harry stormed out of the bank. No money, no wand, no invisibility cloak, no horcrux hunting!
"Damn it!"
Rage welled up in him. Harry stepped into the nearest alleyway. He concentrated on breathing slowly, in and out, in and out. Blasting stuff would more comforting but that was stupid, juvenile and would draw attention to himself. Temper mostly controlled Harry slouched down Diagon Alley, his hands in his oversized pockets. He fingered the holes in the sides of his pockets as he tried to plan.
Okay, so he couldn't buy anything before he met Hagrid. He'd just have to lose Hagrid and do a bit of shopping on his own. Or owl order. But how was he going to make today worthwhile? He stole money from his aunt's purse to get here today. There was going to be Hell to pay for that. He should get something out of his first day in the past even if –
"Oof!"
There was a jolt of pain in Harry's bum and the palms of his hands as Harry impacted the alley's cobblestones. He glared up. A blonde witch was outlined against the sun.
Great. And he couldn't even blame it entirely on her.
Harry scrambled to his feet even as he started apologizing. "I'm sorry. I'm having a really bad day and I wasn't looking where I was going and –"
On his feet and able to get a clear look at the woman's face, Harry's words stuck in his throat.
Narcissa Malfoy!
Harry tried not to groan.
Of course. He was probably fated to meet a Malfoy his first time in the alley.
Cool eyes studied his ragged hand-me-downs and lingered on his forehead. Harry automatically smoothed his hair over his scar.
"Harry Potter I presume?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Where are your guardians?" Narcissa's eyes moved to study the area around him.
Harry flinched, imagining the current, spoiled Dudley and his parents anywhere near Diagon Alley.
"Not here" he mumbled.
"Who are you here with?"
Harry edged back a step. "I'm fine."
Narcissa Malfoy studied him for another few moments then said, "Very well. Would you care to join me for lunch? I hate to dine alone."