Chapter One
"One shall be born from small beginnings which will rapidly become vast. This will respect no created thing, rather will it, by its power, transform almost everything from its own nature into another."
Leonardo Da Vinci
"Hurry, Catherine!" a tall man in a dark hooded cloak yelled, reaching for the woman's hand and pulling her along with him. The urgency of their footsteps echoed through the too quiet dungeon corridor. The woman called Catherine picked up her plain skirts with her free hand and began to run with him, trying to keep up. Behind them, shouting started and soon an alarm was blaring loudly throughout the stone castle.
They had been discovered!
They rushed down another staircase as the corridor behind them began to faintly glow with the orange of torchlight. The man quickly pulled her through an open archway into the night; tall glass buildings lined the path they followed, gleaming in the half-moon's light. As they passed the luminous buildings, their feet crunching in the dirt and gravel, they stepped into an open hillside facing a shadowed forest where tall and short figures, each with a grim expression upon their faces, stood waiting in silence. The short ones' complexities were deep forest green that blended with the shadowed greenery of the forest and their long black hair was braided with various colored fabrics and oddly shaped beads. The taller figures loomed over their shorter comrades, their cloaks bulging in odd places, but the light of the moon revealed nothing of their nature.
The man raised his hand and those standing at the tree line threw off their cloaks with mighty shouts, revealing polished armor and sharp weapons covered with intricate designs and runic lettering. The shorter creatures started hopping up and down, stamping their feet loudly while their taller companions sharpened their beaks against their shields and swords, their feathered heads ruffling in agitation or perhaps excitement. Their leader turned and stared at them all for a brief moment, seeming to communicate only with his eyes, before he nodded and they all let loose loud cries of high pitched screams and piercing eagle-like caws. They thrust their swords in the air before they ran past Catherine and the cloaked man to meet those that followed them.
"What are you doing!?" Catherine shouted in panic, fear filled her voice and made her shout turn into a shriek when the man holding her hand let go and turned, drawing his blade.
"Run!" he commanded without looking behind him.
"Sal, no!" she screamed as he ran towards the now burning castle filled with the sound of screams and clashing metal. She took a step forward, arm outstretched towards the man she knew as Sal, as he disappeared back over the hill. She watched as the fire grew and the castle's once polished grey stone turned black and charred. The moon was quickly shrouded by dense plumes of smoke. Tears streaked down Catherine's face as she cried for those that had and would still die this day. Everything she tried to accomplish and all that she had fought for was now in conflict and ruin.
She turned towards the forest and ran, her heart's pain urging her forward.
oOo
Harry woke from his dream with tears in his eyes, his heart racing in fear. He roughly wiped at his face as he slowly came to his senses. He was at the Dursley's, there was no fire or men screaming, it was all just a dream. Harry took a deep, shuddering breath and threw his legs over the edge of the bed to stare at the wood floor paneling.
"Boy!" his Uncle's voice shouted from the other side of the door. "Wake up boy!" he growled through the vent before slamming it closed, shutting out what little light the cupboard had. Eight-year-old Harry ran a shaking hand through his sweat soaked hair and felt around for his clothes, waiting for someone to remember to actually unlock the door so he could get out.
The sound of shifting metal and clanking keys signaled the arrival of his freedom from his room under the stairs. As the door opened, Harry dashed out of the room and down the hallway to the kitchen before his Uncle could grab him and whack him again. He still had bruises from the night before for his "funny business" and he wasn't ready for more.
Starting breakfast for his Uncle and his family, Harry's mind drifted to last night's dinner. He hadn't meant to do anything wrong and he was trying so hard to show that he could get things done right. Uncle Vernon was never pleased with anything Harry did, but still Harry was determined to prove his worth. Dudley, his cousin, had other plans though and when he saw Harry carrying the bowl of gravy to the dinner table, he stuck out a foot and tripped him.
Harry didn't really understand what happened after that. One minute he was falling and the gravy went up in the air, then suddenly it was laid out on the table perfectly, as if he hadn't tripped at all.
Uncle Vernon exploded at him, yelling and calling him names; he reminded Harry that he wasn't worth the trouble and after everything they had done for him, he should be grateful that they hadn't drowned him as a baby. Then the hitting came. Harry barely remembered what transpired, the bruises proved it was real though, and so Harry renewed the effort to try even harder to make his Uncle and his family happy.
Soon breakfast was over and Harry was given some toast and water before Aunt Petunia pushed him towards the back door to weed the garden. Shoving on his too-tight sneakers, he opened the door and stepped outside. Only, when Harry looked up, the backyard wasn't there. In its place was an emerald green forest with trees that had tinted blue and purple leaves.
He swung around to look at the door he just came through, but nothing was there, only more trees.
"I knew you would come," a calm voice said, matter of factly. Harry's head whipped around to face the source of the voice and his green eyes grew wide in shock.
Before him stood a short, orange-scaled creature with large yellow eyes. Its brown hair was parted neatly to the left and large red rimmed glasses were balanced carefully on a long protruding nose. The creature bowed formally and rose, adjusting his green tweed jacket uncomfortably. "It is rude to stare you know," the creature thrust its nose up into the air and sniffed. At its side it held a large ring of oddly shaped keys that jingled with his movement.
Harry quickly closed his mouth and apologized, "I'm sorry, I've just never met anyone like you before. Wh-where am I?" His inky hair swung back and forth as he tried to look at everything at once.
The creature smiled and said matter-of-factly, "Your mind. This is just a meeting place, something I created so that you could communicate with me."
"Who are you?" Curious green eyes peered into large yellow eyes and Harry noticed they had oddly shaped pupils; he thought the star shape was cool.
The creature bowed again. "Forgive me, I am the Ar- the Librarian. I am your temporary guide during the activation of your blood memories."
"My what?" Harry took a step back.
"Your blood memories." The creature looked at him over its glasses searchingly. "You haven't been told, I take it," the Librarian sighed and nodded, "Yes, I had suspected that such would happen. Follow me."
The Librarian began to walk away and Harry was torn between worrying about getting in trouble with the Dursley's and his curiosity for what was ahead. As the short creature continued on, clearly expecting Harry to follow, his decision was made. This was a dream and his Uncle and his family couldn't reach him here. Anything that happened in his mind belonged to him and no one else, so he decided to follow the strange creature and maybe figure out what was going on, if any of it was real at all.
As the Librarian walked, the forest changed to a small clearing where a bunch of creatures Harry could never even imagine before stood mournfully around a large tree. Some of the ones closest to Harry were sobbing quietly.
"Why are they all crying?" He was upset by the look of pain on everyone's faces.
"Because they grieve for the Forgotten One." The Librarian looked at the sapling tree and Harry watched as tears welled up in his yellow eyes. "When our dead pass, their bodies return to the forest of their birth and one of the trees chooses to honor them by marking where they lay, growing over the body and keeping that person's memories stored within its core." The Librarian sniffed and walked up to the tree and knelt on one knee before it.
Harry was unsure of what to do. He watched the creature silently as he knelt before the large tree. The sunlight seemed to make the leaves sparkle while a soft breeze rustled them gently. Where Harry stood, the ground seemed to pulse like a heartbeat. It was unnerving.
"Ulmas Galabra," the creature looked up at him his eyes now dry and full of something Harry couldn't quite place, "also known as Wych Elm." The creature's eyes looked back at the tree. "It marks the grave of Catherine, the woman in your dreams."
Harry stared at the tree in wonder and confusion. How could this be the Catherine from his dreams if he was dreaming right now? How was any of this real? Strange creatures and mind forests… Harry swallowed his panic as he thought about what Uncle Vernon would have to say about all of this. He would get worse than a beating for sure.
The Librarian stood and brushed the dirt off his brown and yellow plaid pants and took Harry's hand. "Come, that's enough for now. You have many lies ahead of you but at least one seed of truth has been planted. As you grow, so will that seed."
"Is any of this real?" Harry asked as they arrived back where they started.
The Librarian smiled widely at him revealing sharp black teeth and bright red gums. "Of course." He reached into a sleeve and pulled out some kind of white powder with flecks of grey in it, blowing it into Harry's face, making him sneeze uncontrollably. "We will meet again someday child." The Librarian's voice faded and when he managed to stop sneezing, Harry was back in the garden and it was pouring down rain. He rushed back inside to change and finish his chores before his Aunt noticed him "lollygagging".
oOo
Harry ran as fast as he could, his breath coming out in short gasps. The wind was roaring in his ears. It was late summer and the air was humid and hot, his glasses beginning to fog around the edges from his perspiration and hiding his bright green eyes. His ebony hair that was usually unruly and windswept, was damp with sweat and clung to his forehead and neck. Seeing a street sign up ahead he turned sharply left, skidding a bit on the street before picking up his pace again.
His heart was racing as he listened to the pounding feet of his oversized cousin, Dudley, and his friends in pursuit. They had found Harry at the park laying in the grass daydreaming. It was too hot for most parents to be out with their children, so Harry had the whole place to himself. Well, at least he did until Dudley and his gang showed up to harass and bully him for it.
"You better run freak!" Dudley growled out between loud huffs and snorts, his fat jiggling with each foot's impact.
Harry glanced behind him and saw that Dudley was slowly gaining on him, his friends close behind. How his cousin could even run at all was a mystery to Harry. Seeing a small opening between two houses, he quickly turned left and jumped the fence, right as his cousin reached out his hand to grab Harry's foot. As soon as Harry's feet hit the ground on the other side, a loud crack made Dudley and his friends grab their ears in pain.
Hoping to see that Harry had broken something trying to jump the fence, Dudley was disappointed to turn and find that he had run off again and was nowhere to be seen. Glaring angrily at the spot where Harry used to be, he shoved his friends aside and began to walk home.
It was a large and thorny bush that Harry fell into, yelping loudly, "What the hell!?" He struggled to stand up and yanked his clothes out of the brambles, earning himself a few scratches for his troubles. Why did this always happen to him? One minute he was running and the next minute he was… Harry looked around him grumpily as he plucked leaves and thorns out of his hair.
"In a bloody forest. Great…" He spoke aloud and looked around him for a moment, taking in the greenery, the way the trees stood so evenly apart, and how there was calf high ground cover everywhere, some with little white flowers. They were small trees, thin and white barked with eye shaped knots in their trunks. One of the eyes blinked at him and Harry, not sure that he saw what he saw, blinked back.
When he opened his eyes, he was lying in his bed at the Dursley's. The cupboard door was cracked letting in just enough light to make out the tattered cot he was laying on. Was it a dream? He didn't think so... It had felt so real! He quickly looked down at his hands and traced the reddened scratch marks from the thorny bush he'd fallen into. How did he get back here?
Suddenly, Harry felt as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over his head and he felt all of the blood rush from his face. He did it again. He did the "funny business" Uncle Dursley was talking about. Maybe he really was a freak...
What if his Uncle found out? Would he drown him this time, like he'd threatened? No one would notice, Harry thought and silently pulled his cupboard door closed. He pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged them tightly as he cried into his pillow.
A small spider hid in the smallest corner of the cupboard and watched with all of its eyes, noting the small tremors of the young one. It pulled a gossamer thread and lowered itself down to begin a new web. The youngling liked his webs and always smiled and exclaimed over how pretty they were. He would make a new one so that when the young one woke, there would be something beautiful waiting for him.
Harry tossed restlessly in his sleep as he dreamt of strange creatures and their war. Catherine's face flashed between scenes of long arguments at a large table. He could feel the Librarian there with him, his presence nudging him in a certain direction. It felt like moving through tree sap, thick, layered, and sticky. Eventually the dreams stopped and his subconscious drifted into natural sleep.
The spider worked well into the evening and by morning, an intricate copper web hung in the corner of the cupboard. When Harry woke, he smiled as he caught its glimmer as he was rubbing his puffy eyes. The spider was nowhere to be seen.
oOo
A clawed hand slapped the table loudly, causing the siege markers to topple and a few of the others round the table to flinch. "I don't care what you cold bloods think! We need to attack with force!" The man shouting shook his long flaxen hair in annoyance revealing sharply pointed ears. His elegantly sweeping brows were furrowed over honey brown eyes that were glaring at the table. Firelight flickering from the stone room's wall sconces cast shifting shadows across his fine features and enhanced his high cheek bones. He sat back in his chair and adjusted his dark blue deer-skinned jacket and brushed invisible dust off of his brown deerskin pants while his boot covered foot tapped against the floor in agitation.
"Of coursssse thhhhat'sss what you thhhiink Kail," a sibilant voice spoke from beneath a deep hooded yellow robe. "Your fondnessss for the-"
"That's quite enough, from the both of you," a short woman with long auburn hair spoke softly from her seat at the war table; all who heard it winced in pain as the magic in her voice was so heavy, it was almost unbearable to hear. "This war will be over before it starts if we cannot become united in our cause."
"Indeed. If we fight we must fight together. The Goblins of Grilwak will stand and fight." The leathery skinned goblin grinned wickedly around the table.
A happy voice sounded from behind a long and scruffy beard. "We Dwarves will not be joining this battle, life is too short for this." The small stocky man pushed away from the table and left to find his comrades.
The goblin barked out a laugh, "Ha! Dwarves, it was unlikely they would join. They're like children, no sense of importance for things larger than themselves. That one will probably be dead tomorrow."
"What of Catherine?" a formless shadow whispered from the corner of the dimly lit room.
Everyone around the war table went quiet. The silence was tense and uncomfortable, drifting on for several minutes.
"The Feylin say that she is recovering, but the magic surrounding her is fading. We will know by dawn if she will live," Khail murmured tucking a strand of his hair behind a pointed ear hiding his sadness behind a mask of indifference. "They betrayed her, they betrayed us, and this is price that magic asks."
oOo
The Librarian, or better known by his official title, The Arch, sighed and settled back in his large, cushioned office chair. He rubbed his temples, trying to relieve the growing headache he felt there. The child's mind was difficult to navigate. Some of sort of spell had been cast on him to prevent entry from anyone other than the caster. The Arch scratched at the scales on his scalp and shook his head.
"Harry Potter, you have no idea how important you are… No idea."
oOo
Writer's Note: A special thank you to my Beta/Alpha Team, lotrspnfangirl and DarkLadyEris, you guys make this possible! Thank you to my readers for your patience, I hope you like the "Unusual Circumstances" new rewrite.
As usual everything that belongs to J.K. Rowling is hers and any ideas that may coincide with other sources/fiction belongs to their prospective owners under copyright. I'm just a fangirl. A squealing, helpless, impulsive, fangirl.