A Lonely Path

by ala_baguette

Summary:

At age ten, Harry Potter disappeared. His guardians report that he has been taken, the Trace is broken, months of searching by the Ministry and the Order of the Phoenix has turned up nothing. The wizarding community resigns itself to the worst. That is until, four years later, a mysterious and suspiciously familiar boy is found living on his own in Muggle London. Remus accepts the task of reintroducing him to the wizarding world, Harry resisting all the while. Between meddlesome Ministers and mad escaped convicts, Remus attempts to discover the truth. Where has Harry been? And will he ever learn to trust?

Chapter 1: Prologue

Minerva McGonagall sat comfortably at her desk.  The firelight danced across the stacks of parchment she was slowly working her way through.  It was that time of the year again.  The summer was drawing to a close, and she was dutifully signing the letters addressed to each of the students who were to be attending Hogwarts the coming year.  She found she quite enjoyed the repetitive task, her quill making the same confident strokes over and over and over.  Some might think the assignment dull, but she found it relaxing: soaking in the warmth of the fire, listening to the scribbling of the enchanted quill that was addressing the envelopes, the rustling of parchment as the booklists magically folded themselves.

Pausing in reminding Zachary Stebbins to catch the train on September the first, she removed her square spectacles, laid them carefully on her desk, leaned back in her chair, and shut her eyes.  She intended to take full advantage of the last few weeks of peace before the students returned.  The castle was so quiet without them.  She was just contemplating taking a break to make a pot of tea and indulge in a few Ginger Newts when she noticed just how quiet it was in the room.  Too quiet.  The magical quill had halted its systematic scribbling despite the thick stack of envelopes still to be addressed

Never having known of this happening before, it was with some curiosity that Professor McGonagall rose to her feet and, repositioning her spectacles on her nose, walked around the desk to see what was wrong.  The emerald green quill was poised motionless over the paper as though awaiting dictation. On the envelope was written only one line of text, nothing more. 

Professor McGonagall frowned concernedly.  A student's name shone clearly in the still drying green ink, but no address was written below it.  The quill was charmed to replicate the names and directions offered to it by the Trace Spell placed by the Ministry on all wizarding children with magical aptitude.  But for some reason, with this particular student it did not appear to be working.

Unsure how best to act, McGonagall stared at the envelope for a moment longer.  This specific name gave her particular reason to be nervous.  And so, making up her mind, she turned on her heel, strode quickly over to the door and wrenched it open.  Albus would know what to do.  He always did.

Behind her, still lying on the desk, a single drop of emerald ink fell from the poised tip of the quill and landed with a splatter on the envelope, just below the words, Mr H. Potter.

Notes:

It is time! After several requests, I have decided to import A Lonely Path onto AO3. To those of you who already know this story: I am truly touched that you are interested in rereading it. To newcomers: Welcome and enjoy the ride.

A few things you should probably know about A Lonely Path:

(1). This fic is old. Like REALLY old. Pre-dates AO3 old. The majority I first published online in 2009, then it underwent a nine year hiatus while I was struggling with the pressures of veterinary college and starting a new career, before I finally came back and completed the last few chapters a few years ago. Pretty sure I initially devised the plot for this story before the Deathly Hallows book was released. I say this for a couple of reasons. The first is simply that I am not sure if all the themes will have aged well. What may not have been so very cliche then, is likely to be so now... I'll be re-reading along with you after several years, so I guess we'll find out. But mostly I want you to know how old it is to defend myself by saying that I was very young when I wrote this story (late teens, early twenties). So if the writing and storyline is not up to par with my current works, it is a testament to how much I have grown as an author.

(2). Yes, as you could probably have guessed from the first point, you can go and read the completed fic on FFN if you prefer (username la baguette). If you have the patience, for it, however, I would suggest you stick with AO3. I will be posting on a weekly schedule, and I'll be editing for typos and a little for verbiage. And I may add a scene or two to help a few areas I recall causing confusion during the original posting. I won't be making any major plot changes, though, so if you're too impatient for that, the FFN option is always there.

(3). This story is AU. You will notice some divergences from canon. One of the most noteworthy comes from a bit of an issue I had when I was writing that I thought I would just get ahead of now. When I first devised the plot of this fic, I intended Harry to be thirteen and that it would be set in what would be his third year at Hogwarts. When I actually started writing, however, I realised I really needed Harry to be a bit older. And thus I set it a year later. However, Remus is still the DADA teacher at Hogwarts. Sorry if that's confusing. Mistakes were made. Work with me.

(4). While generally I welcome and encourage constructive criticism on all of my stories, I do have more reservations inviting criticism to this particular fic. The reason is simply that this story has already been completed and that the majority of it was written 13+ years ago. So while I always encourage you to speak your mind and give your honest opinion, please think hard whether your comment is indeed constructive, understanding that I do not have access to a time machine with which to pass it on to my ninteen-year-old-self. I am always seeking to grow as a writer and thus generally appreciate criticism; but some comments serve little purpose but to be discouraging.

That's all for now, except to say that I hope you enjoy.