Author's note

This story centers around the introduction of a different sort of magic than the HP verse.

Call them the Wydri. This chapter introduces them and their powers

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The Wydri were few and sparse, because they were no longer needed.

Modern medicine and wizardry whirled around the world like a violent storm. There were many casualties on their side, and the place they once held in the people's hearts had disappeared.

Still, they did what they could and soon their name was stolen and adapted.

A wydri has to be careful, a wydri has to be clever, a wydri knows which way the wind blows. A talented wydri rarely needs to use magic at all. Above all a wydri's magic is used subtly and sparingly.

For a long time her title was Witch

Healer, Fortune teller, Gypsy, Witch Doctor

These were the paths that the Wydri blended into and the old ways were forgotten

Enchantress, Demon, Sorceress, Succubus, Goddess

These were fancy titles for someone who let the Eldritch power go to their head. The Eldritch power was neither good nor evil, but some let greatness go to their heads and committed atrocious deeds with it.

The Snow Queen. She took the old power and bent it for selfish reasons. Causing 100 more years to the Ice Age. Hera of Greece took the old power and made her and her siblings Gods. The Wydri were woven in many myths of old. They stood in the background undoing the damage their sisters wrought.

Names have power, words have power. So, it stands to reason so do titles. The true nature of the Wydri grew in power, so it was vowed that their lessons were never to pinned down in paper or shared to an outsider again. All traces of their magic were destroyed or whispered in the wind to those who were chosen by the oldest magic…Eldritch power.

Elder Wydri' have always been on earth, and they are still here. They are watching and waiting in the shadows. They watch so that there will be no more Snow Queens, and they most likely will see it to the end. Wydri were good at endings, and they are good at beginnings too. But endings more so…

Beginnings. Endings.

The Elders of Wydri were often forced to make a big scene in the picture in the past. It was their duty to clean up after their own. They would not meddle with wizards or muggles wars, because it was not their place. The initial purpose of a good Wyrdi was small, good, and humble acts. The first of their kind were simple healers who guarded one or two village of muggles or wizards. Later, they would guard a city. It was considered an honour to be assigned a city. Wydri do not like to get bunched up together…that's how Snow Queens and Heras are created. When you place a bunch of powerful people together, set in their ways sparks tend to fly. There were other roles too. The Wydri scholars who had no city, but floated from town to town. The Wydri testers who searched for new ones to be born, identified and deemed them worthy or perhaps just needed watching.

They did not disturb the bigger picture, because it was the balance between ordinary people and magical that they kept. In the end it was the ordinary, plain, muggles who needed them the most. The witches and wizards would most often not notice them; these wand-waving impressive men and women. They were so glaringly obvious and blatantly sparkly. The Wydri called the wizard's magic sorcery. A baby magic that was strangely alike, yet completely different from theirs.

They payed these new magic wielders no mind, and they truly should have. If they had made themselves known perhaps they would still be respected like in the years of old.

Either way they would pretend not to notice sorcery, and these fledgling witches and wizards would never see them. The dusty, well-worn clothes they wore, made it too easy to fade slowly into the background.

In the years before the Modern Era, it was the muggles who knew them in the villages and tribes across the world.

When a wydri reached a certain age. Her light sun-kissed days had come to an end and she had become what she needed to be. She was expected to wear dusk.

It was the black-clad woman who you called when the pain of death approaches. She would come to your house and sit with you. She would take away your pain, because this was a time to use magic. She would see Death arrive and greet him with a smile and stay with you to make sure your soul crossed over. The wydri saw through illusion, lies, she saw truth and noticed the small details. While she may not be using magic she was never above a little psychology and some slightly underhanded tricks to make her path easier.

Why use magical power? When you could create belief and influence thought.

A village was being poisoned by water from a well, for matters of this kind they would call the witch. The wydri would tell the man that an evil imp had cursed the water of their well. She would say that they would have to find a new source of water. Of course in those times, not a single person would believe that the tiny living creatures were causing the ailment. She could have turned the well water pure but there was no reason to use magic. Besides, the villagers could use the exercise digging. The last bountiful harvest had resulted in some slacking around.

A black-clad woman would never ask for money. In fact, offering money would be insulting to her. She made by though, a potion here and there, curing livestock, tending to the ill. It was never forgotten that these were her villagers, no matter how careless and stupid they could be. In turn, a good sized portion of deer might find its way into her hut. A potion discreetly passed to a young troubled girl, and when that girl had become a woman. Every harvest that came the wydri would find a large sack of onions from the woman's crops. The matter of the fact was a wydri tended to her village and the village took care of her.

If it was great power that you aspired to and notoriety then you could not become a wydri. You had to be born one. Eldritch Magic would choose a one female child from a muggle village to bless and in time a teaching wydri would take her under her wings. There was never more witches then needed by the Eldritch magic. She would teach her about magic, psychology, birthing, herbs, getting by, and Death. She was taught never to let herself get ensnared by power. Power did not bode well. Eldritch magic was unharnessed and wild. It did not like being controlled.

When the Eldritch magic was strong they took measures to keep each other in check. That is why wydri visit each other, test each other, and trick one another. It is important to watch so that no one would go down the alluring path to power. If they did, indeed there would be indeed be a reckoning. An Elder would find the astray and if need be destroy their own

Things would have to run it's course, and the foolish wydri who had gone wrong would be slain. Be it the witches and wizards or be it the muggles, the affected woman would never be saved. The powerful wydri who delves too far and lets the whispers begin to control her.

When power collects it is never certain who else might be listening. Watching and waiting for a chance to slip into our dimension. Creatures strange and unknown. Strong magic has a price. It is said for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. That is why they could never cheat Death, because for every life saved there would also be a death. It was making change with small things.

Once in a while though, a wydri would have to use every bit of magic they had. To keep the dimensions in order. Once again saving humankind and then fading into the background.

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Spring 1926

"The greatest gift of we blessed be, are the itchings we feel on our feet. A wydri knows when the coals have settled enough to step on"

Anonymous
Quote found in an Elder's journal in the 1700's

A lady with an amiable expression, but piercing all-knowing eyes sits in a small cottage in a remote village in England. Elder Beth Moore or Shepherd Moore as she is more commonly known around town, is frightened. A wandering wydri for most her life, Elder Beth Moore had found a vast village that needed her. She loved her villagers. Yes, she called them hers. She had helped the birthing of most of the people, healed their woes real or not, and would sit with most of them by their deathbeds. She loved even daft Willy who would sit in her hut and complain of an aching back almost every week. Her cure was to walk two miles and throw a piece of bread to the troll in the river three times a week. She knew the walk would help with his arthritis. Willy always brought her a fine loaf of bread though.

Beth was one of the best wydri in England. It is common with her kind to be exceptionally strong in a few or one of the talents. Elder Moore made the most accurate and detailed shambles or vision nets. Making a shamble was one of the easier skills learned in magic. It was a light skill that many wydri had neither the patience nor knack for it. A shamble was like a little cobweb or dreamcatcher, quickly put together it could show you glimpses of the future before it broke apart.

Beth had patience in spades, and her mind was as sharp as a knife. On every other week Beth would practice making a shamble.

"Can't let this mind idle, idling only leads to trouble. It is a shame what happened to Maleficent. She showed such promise. Made perfect shambles. But we ain't meant for the rich life, and what goeth with pride shall fall. I think this yeller yarn will do most nicely' Beth thought to herself

The formula for a shamble is a little different each time. It has to be something to hold onto. One or more must have personal bit of meaning. Then there is the most tricky part, a shamble has to have something alive in it. Beth always carried a robin's egg or insect in a matchbox, pieces of string, and other things she 'acquired' in her pockets. She justified her 'acquisitions' with a clear code in mind.

'It isn't stealing when no one will miss it, now this here nail is not going to set Mr. Drewsworth back a penny.' She reminded herself. "Although it was funny sticking him with a pin to "cure" him of wandering thoughts about his neighbours wife. I wonder if it worked. It certainly was funny for me…Then again if he believes it'll work, it will. Elders bless the power of thought.' Chuckling Beth mulled over the past weeks events.

Beth had instructed a man with a wandering eye to prick himself with a nail when he thought of his neighbour's wife and after wards do something kind for his family. She told him the nail though was a mighty relic of Ancient Fae.

Exhibiting the ease of many years of practice Beth tied the string to the nick knacks in a circle around the egg. Then quickly pulled the string like in a game of 'cat's cradle'. She stared at the drooping web and the egg, which miraculously began to spin unsupported in the middle of the web of yarn.

'Right then, Isn't that nice, Mr. Walker is going to have that boy soon. It looks like Mr. Drewsworth is doing well with his wife. Willy will be here tomorrow, oh dear. I need to make up something better then a troll. Wait! ... something is wrong' Beth stirred from her thoughts, an alarmed look flickered on her face.

Beth hoped she had made some sort of mistake. The pin passed right through a string and a hairclip was popping in and out of existence. Peering through the shamble and into a vision she saw a boy, and then a castle.

Images of present and future flashed before her eyes. Her eyes widened and knocked over chair when the shamble exploded. She had never seen this much before in a vision and she had never seen so much.

'Dare I step out of the shadows?' Beth mused, 'This is not a wydri's job, this sort of thing shouldn't happen. It is not my responsibility to do this high sort of thing. But there aren't many of us left. And, if you want something done. Well who better than yourself'

Beth muttered to herself, "It is all wrong, he is in the wrong place, wrong time, he should not be… is this in the plan?"

'Watch over me Small Gods or we both shall be forgotten', Beth thought and packed her worldly possessions.

The wydri travel light and her entire life fit in a small suitcase filled with three changes of black clothes.

'A wydri is sensible to the core.' Beth reminded herself she paused, 'It really would not harm anyone to take the time to pack some hard cheese, meat, and bread. Perhaps I'll drop over to the butchers. Gilly owes me a favour.'

After haggling the butcher into exchanging one ball of wool for several slabs of dried meat. Beth knew what she should do. She waited patiently for John Walker to return to the stables. Thanking John and promising to return the horse, she began the long journey to London.

Wool's Orphanage to be precise.

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Lily Evans approached a small shop that she had never seen before in Hogsmeade she felt a strong compulsion to enter it. The store had no sign and when you tried to look at it you eyes would pass over it. '

There is a shop in front of you, There IS a shop in front of you. There is a shop in front of you' Lily began to repeat the chant in her head.

Lily paced her heart beginning to beat a little faster. Then faster, she concentrated on picturing a small shop. And then a small bell rang over the door as she stepped inside the store. Lily stumbled, expecting the hard cobblestones and not even remembering opening a door.

The first thing Lily could not help thinking was, 'What a beautiful lady, she looks like a Queen. Yet she is sitting here amid some drabby books. I thought she was wearing a gown, but it looks like a simple pair of simple white robes? She is so pretty. Maybe, that is what makes her more striking.'

The woman inside the store was seated casually by a bookcase and humming softly. She was facing slightly away and lit only by the dim candlesticks that were strewn about the store. She was pale, but held a sort of glow. She had cascading waves of silver hair that only enhanced her charm. She had gigantic almond shaped eyes, and almost perfectly carved ruby lips. She had a statuesque posture even seated and seemed deep in thought. Her eyes shined in the candlelight.

With a bit of jealousy Lily thought, 'Her eyes shine a brighter green then mine.'

Lily realized that she was staring and stepped backwards.

The woman said in a soothing and silvern voice, "I am Marie, and we have been waiting for you."

Her voice was that of thousand soprano voices chiming at once, it seemed to resonate into the farthest corners of the store and echo on the sprawling contents of books.

"What do you sell here?" asked Lily, her eyes glancing around suspiciously.

One can never be too safe in times like these, thought Lily, 'this looks like a library, the kind I dream about. But so many things were wrong. Something feels… Not quite right… I can't concentrate for more than a couple seconds, but I don't think I can read the titles of these books. The characters move … These books in perfect order and size… everything looks dull, yet it all looks the familiar… and it is so unnaturally quiet…'

What is most troubling is the feeling she had. It was unexplainable, as though the room was not really there and she was standing at the edge of a cliff.

The woman said in a sweet voice, "One day you will remember what I have told you. And I think you will thank me."

The woman laughed, and it was like beautiful bells ringing in the almost perfect mimicry of laughter.

Lily turned around and sighed with relief when she found the door unlocked. She concentrated on her intention to get out of this strange place.

The woman said softly, "Lily Evans, this is about James Potter. It is of a most important matter. Please, just listen to me. This place will be gone once you don't need it."

"It's wrong. This place, this place is wrong. It is Dark Magic or something worse and I am not interested in anything you have here." Lily stated. She turned around abruptly and reached for the door handle.

The woman was in front of the door faster than a blink of the eye, blocking her way, the candles began to dim and flicker and the store seemed to close in.

"I really thought you liked books... Well, No matter. Don't you want to know how to save your son? I thought you would like to know. This is not magic like you know it...I know magic in ways in which we can bend fate and trick Death too! When the Oracle tells the prophecy and the end is so close. My Magic is going to help you!" The woman beamed at Lily, but whatever Lily saw in her eyes made her look away and turn for the door.

She did not know how, but the way this woman said words made them sound capitalized.

'This is crazy, I need to get out of here' Lily thought.

The woman said quickly in her chiming tones, "He will be the first of His kind. Your wizards will persecute him from childhood to adulthood. We … I can make it Better. All you need to remember is One thing. Remember it. I can trap it in your mind. I am sorry about this, but it will be for the best. You will see."

Before she could move an inch with supernatural speed the woman placed her hands on Lily's shoulders fixing her in place like a statue and bent down to whisper in her ear. Lily heard a clink as if something was placed on her neck.

She whispered three words into Lily's ear and let her go. Lily dashed outside of the store, and wondered what she was doing there. She paused and traced her collarbone. Then turned around to see her friends, and she waved happily and rushed to join them.

The strange store and frighteningly beautiful lady was forgotten.

A wydri is always a girl. That was a rule. But it was always known that Harry Potter will do many impossible things.

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October 31, 1981.

Lily, now Lady Potter, never believed in Divination or in seeing into the future. Every time the new damned prophecy passed her mind she began to remember glimpses of the strange lady and her shop. As the days passed and she thought more about the strange woman and wondered what those words meant. She had not noticed the weight around on her neck grow heavier and the simple silver chain necklace that appeared.

If you asked Lily she would say it seemed as though she had always worn it. No one ever asked her about it, it was only a simple necklace.

Harry would pull at it sometimes, and everyone would laugh. After that brief moment, it was just as easily forgotten once more.

When they had a boy, Lily began to have nightmares or was it dreams about the strange woman. But she would push it to the back of her mind. Then Dumbledore told her and James about the prophecy. They hid for as long as they could.

It was today, the Death Eaters found them and that meant they had been betrayed. She obeyed James and tried to escape, but it was too late. Certain of her own demise Lily grasped Harry tightly and ran to the nursery. She looked at her boy for the last time. Lily placed a kiss on his forehead and for reasons unbeknownst to her or perhaps out of desperation she spoke those three ancient and strange words the woman had told her.

She started when the woman from the store appeared and asked her a question. Lily was also surprised when Voldemort did not see the woman. Brilliant glowing jade eyes looked into emerald green eyes and Lily nodded so slightly it was nearly imperceptible.

When Lily sacrificed herself for her son, the woman saw Death swing his scythe and watched Lily Evan's soul go through a black door into a desert that leaded to her Afterlife. She smiled and uttered false promises and half-truths. It was true that she would find something beyond the desert. It was not true that her son would ever see her or know of her. Her son was now hers. He would be hers forever.

Time stopped.

Death was a skeleton in a dark cape and a cowl. Marie or the woman had always hated him. She would never be in his grasp. She made sure of it.

Death frowned at Marie. "IT IS HIS TIME, MARIE. LET THE BABY GO" he demanded with a solemn gravelly voice voice that shaked the rafters in it's deep intonations. Death held up the beautiful hourglass that said Harry Potter and pointed a bony hand at the almost empty top half and the miniscule amount on the bottom.

Marie whispered in a voice with undertones of steel, "He is just like me. I will take care of him. If you do not leave him alone I will just steal him from you."

Death raised his non-existent eyebrows and his eyes flickered that piercing blue-white fire. He said resignatedly in a deep solemn voice, "THIS TIME, HOW ABOUT WE PLAY FOR IT? ONE YEAR TAKEN FROM YOUR LIFE TO BE ADDED TO HIS." The bones rattled behind the black robes and the tall grim reaper's eyes glowed playfully. The ancient being was shaped into human form because that's what human's expected. It was not foreseen that a Death could try to act human and gain some human "habits". Death had grown accustomed to Marie's ways and it was custom that she would be offered the wager. Out of deference of playing the game as long as she had. She was one soul he would get… someday. However long it may take. Though it was turning into centuries.

So the two, one ancient creature and one Icon of humanity played a forgotten game of strange shaped stones that was based on both strategy and luck. The easiest way to describe it is 4th dimensional chess. For a moment the world stopped, and the Magic or Luck tipped the scales in Harry's favour. Marie smirked wickedly as her final piece had ended the game.

Death shrugged, he could not see the future, but he would play his part in her little games. Death is patient above all things and he knew he would see Harry Potter again. Some part of him knew it would be in a significant way. He waved a bony hand and one tenth of the top of the hourglass was filled. Then he was gone.

Time commenced.

Marie stayed to watch for a bit, she liked Tom. There was no reason wasting energy trying to prevent an event that was fated. She never intended to truly save Harry for his family or wizardkind. She would give him a year of her life and then they both could escape to her personal dimension where time held no bonds.

She watched unseen. After the curse was thrown, she would spirit them both away and leave a dead homunculus baby. No one would be the wiser. Also she loved a bit of Voldemort pageantry.

Voldemort looked at the boy, he wondered briefly if children were always that strangely quiet. He should have been more interested in why Harry was looking slightly to the left of him.

He uttered the curse, "Avada Kedavra" Green lightning struck the boy, but something went wrong on the way.

At that moment. With power far beyond him, Harry decided that he wanted to have the other lady comfort with him. Harry performed his first bit of sorcery, a summoning spell, at the most inconvenient time.

Marie was pulled like toydoll directly in front of the crib. This is something she didn't expect that. She was pulled into the crosshair of the curse and was at the moment mortal. She would be hit if she did not act. The ancient lady turned around and defended herself with perfect shield of magic.

The curse bounced of the shield and killed Voldemort, leaving a fragment of a soul floating. With ease, Marie reached out grasped the struggling piece of a soul in her hand. The phantom made of black smoke was once a most entertaining human. It was calling her names in serpent tongue at the moment.

Jade eyes peered at the smoke and wheels turned in her mind. On one hand she always favoured Tom, but on the other hand she wanted Harry. Then, she almost beamed at her cleverness. There was one thing that she could try and do, and that was mending this little soul. She thought there must surely there be another half floating around somewhere. She murmured in a voice imbued with Eldritch magic, "I send you back to when you were whole."

Marie considered her job done and she released the soul. Tom Riddle had been told to go back to when it was 'whole'. It had not been whole in a long time. This fragment saw Harry and his shining new soul and decided that is where it wanted to be. It was not evil nor good it just wished to be a part of something.

When the wisp vanished into Harry. Marie shrieked at the moment she realized where Tom's soul had gone.

"You stupid, stupid childish boy, this is not your soul. This boy is mine."

Marie viciously tried to rip the fragment out of him. She stopped when Harry began to wail and cry.

"This work requires a healing that is beneath me." Marie muttered. "And how few of us there are to heal anymore."

In truth, Marie had forgotten how to heal in her attempts for glory. All her efforts resulted in was for the piece of soul to strike back at her. Fire caught on her sleeve and one of her beautiful hands was burned. This action unintentionally marked Harry with a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.

Harry wailed and cried up a storm. Marie was very mad and frustrated. She had been waiting so long for Harry and now he was going to be taken away. He would never be truly hers to take if he had a piece of soul locking him on this plane. This plane…

"Perhaps, there is another way. A longer way, but a way." Marie wondered to herself ignoring the babies cries.

She remembered wydri, the wydri of old, and although she despised them. She knew they could heal Harry, but they would need Tom Riddle. Not Voldemort, but the purest form of Tom Riddle. So summoning as much Magic into her as she could, she pictured Tom when she had first saw his shining soul.

Muttering in concentration, "I see a place for you Tom, and you will be happier there. Show me where you truly are." Closing her eyes Marie began creating a sphere of light. She began to see a day and woman, a sign of an orphanage.

"I will be back for you Harry, my sweet prince." whispered Marie, "I guess I get to wait for you to grow up nice and strong, and powerful." A forlorn look passed Marie's face as she constructed a portal to her vision. She attempted to comfort the crying child

She will have to send Harry to that place. There was one wydri alive who would fix this and Marie would pull the strings to make sure it happened. The portal zapped leaving Marie alone with the destroyed house and her disappointment.

She was cheered up a bit, by the damage Voldemort caused. While admiring the Mark floating above the house, she felt that it was missing something. It hit her. She waved her hand turning the house to dust and she felt a little better. Destruction always soothed her spirits. Then as quietly as she appeared, she faded into nothing.

There is another dimension where no living thing has ever existed; it is trapped in a time loop, and in the middle of flat colourless land. A dark house stands in the middle that looks like… a cottage? Grey roses, a black picket fence, and an actual lawn gnome also in black and white. Inside this house there is a skeleton with a scythe tapping on hourglasses, as he passes never ending shelves.

Death was feeling bored. Even Marie, as she called herself, had become predictable over the centuries. He passed the endless shelves of hourglasses, and stopped by a particularly ornate cabinet.

'Perhaps' he thought to himself 'Today is the day one of the key players had changed.'

Bones rattled as a skeletal hand tapped on an ornate hourglass labeled Nicholas Flamel. Humans were so interesting. He watched the hourglass become so close to being empty, but miraculously sand would appear out of nowhere in the top half.

'I can wait' Death thought to himself with a smile.

He glanced at Harry Potter's hourglass and paused. The glass had become warped and tubelike, it was so twisted you could no longer tell if sand was going up or down. Death said in a solemn, deep voice, "NOW THIS IS JUST ANNOYING."

He looked around for another hourglass, one of his favourites. Sometimes this one was divided into separate hourglasses, it was akin to collecting a set of cards somethimes. In his alternate realities he always completed the set, one way or another. When it was whole it was labeled Tom Riddle. A skeletal raven cawed at him with a chiding expression. Death said, "I KNOW I CANNOT INTERFERE, IT IS JUST IRRITATING." Death mused over the two convoluted timeglasses that seemed to resonate besides eachother.

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December 31, 1926

Wool's Orphanage, London

Mrs. Cole let out an exasperated sigh, a baby left on the doorstep, another mouth to feed. She put the emerald-eyed babe in the crib beside Tom Riddle.

She wore a displeased expression and thought 'That poor lass died today… well, that is what sinful living does to you. Let's hope these two will be adopted. She could tell they would grow to be good-looking young lads.'

She tilted her head as she looked at the green eyed boy. 'A name' she thought. She glanced at a newspaper. 'There we go. How about the first male name I find... Harry… Next for the last name something good and English.' She paused her musings and she looked at the boy and noticed how dark his hair was. 'Black as midnight', she thought. She smiled at the newly named, Harry Black.

She looked at the other child with derision. The troubled, young woman had certainly been adamant about the other child's name. Dreadful name, that it was. However, Mrs. Cole was not exactly creative and she could care less. She scribbled their names on the ledger and let the other staff tend to the babes.

In her rush, Mrs. Cole did not notice how quiet the babies were. Or the fact they were looking at each other very intently.

Author's Note

I do not own anything written by J.K. Rowling or Sir Terry Pratchett.

-All slang and colloquialisms may be and are probably wrong. Grammar too. If it is annoying. I am sorry, correct me please.

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In an unnamed village in the mountains of Europe.

This is must be what it feels like to fly… Valleys and mountains were spread before her, dotted with villages and towns.

"Get back here you wee lass! I have nay finished your lessons!" Mama Woodside bellowed.

"If you weren't sooo old, maybe I wouldn't have ta wait."

Beth smiled and pushed her black hair back into a semblance of order, she had known Mama would find her. 'No one escapes the sights of Mama Woodside.' It was uncanny, Mama was always up to date with every one of her villagers. Beth looked at Elder Woodside, a plump jovial-looking woman.

She shivered. From the cold. Of course.

Underneath that smile was a will strong and unyielding as the mountain they lived on. Beth was convinced Mama could get someone to take out his own heart and -he- would think it was his idea. Of course, Mama Woodside would never do that.

'Mama's lessons. Hmmph, More like special little torture sessions.' When Beth would ask Mama to teach her some wyrdi magic, Mama would find something for her to do. She recalled her first lesson in from Mama Woodside.

Flashback

A small determined little girl looked at the list, it was her first day and first lesson as an apprentice wydri, and she was going to try her best. She was first to gather enough fallen feathers fill a sack, tend to Mama's goats, deliver some medicine, and run to the river for some fresh river water, and ten other similarly boring things. She rolled her eyes.

'This stupid', she sighed, she stuffed a feather into bag.

"I'm never ta learn wydri ways, huh." She frowned a robin, "Stop it. Not like you need these."

-cheep- -cheep- went the robin

"Hmpph! Great, a mocking-bird."

Almost crawling up to the house at the end of the day she walked wearily up to Mama, who was sitting in her usual chair.

Beth pouted and batted her little grey eyes at Mama, "Eldah Woodside, wha did I learn today? - Was it to be kinder ta animals?- Am I supposed ta remember the people I delivered potions too? - That river didn't look particularly cle.."

Mama chortled, "Cute!" She tapped Beth on the nose.

"Dearie, you are lookin at a -Master- of man-ipulling."

"….You mean manipulation."

"Go to bed lass." Mama squinted at her, "Run, lass. I might just get up."

"Ack!"

There was a sound of little feet, pitter pattering away quickly.

"Just leave the feathers on the table. Child!"

This is another test, Beth sulked in her bed. I want answers now. Beth yawned…'Yep, an... swers…'

Mama was already at her rocking chair and drinking some coffee out of a chipped mug. Beth gathered her wits and phrased her words, "I wanna know how the tasks I did yesterday relate ta learning our ways of magic." Mama sipped a bit of coffee.

With a grin, Mama replied, "Those were my chores. lassie"

"When will I learn magic?" She frowned sternly, "I didn't learn anything!"

Mama pinched her cheek, "This'll make ya feel better… it woulda taken me a week to do those! You are quick!"

"MAMA!"

"It was … a surprise! You actually finished them. So…what ave we learned!"

...Silence

"Hmmph, alright. First lesson. Question everything. You shoulda questioned me, but you didnt cause I'm older and wiser."

"Hey!"

"Step two, is to question your own questions. Think!"

Mama began to mumble ".…til you can see true… Not all zappy -ZAP- and light shows… and … staffs?."

"I just want…" Beth paused. "…I know, It's just."

Mama peered down at her solemnly. "It's nay too late to go home."

"No, I need to be here."

"This path will not be easy…Some fail", Woodside smiled behind her tea cup.

Beth strongly believed that Mama had just made that little speech up in order to obtain some free labour. However, nothing, nothing, this old lady could say or do would stop her from becoming an Elder wydri. She felt it in her bones.

End Flashback

Years of lessons and hard work tempered Beth into a patient and understanding woman. Watching Mama Woodside tend to her people made her understand the true nature of being a wydri. There were two sides to it. The wydri would keep the village safe, tend to their deaths, heal the very sick, and watch the people. Healer, sentinel, shepherd, these were the parts of wydri that muggles saw. Beth learned about magical and non-magical herbs and cures that people could mistake for medicine.

She always cringed when she remembered the first time she met Death. He was surprising, not exactly what she expected. Death was imposing, but he had a limited sense of humour, and a penchant for games. Her heart nearly leaped from her chest while watching Mama Woodside gamble for someone who needed to live just a few years longer. The price would be paid, but wydri have long lives. A few years here and there sparingly were not going to do any harm. There were boring days too, of just visiting the villagers, or working in a small workshop near the house. In these times wydri took up a profession. Moore would be able to survive if she left the village, she was an able cook, tailor, and the best shepherd.

Behind the guise of two peaceful country folk, there was a part of them that they had to hide, Mama Woodside would teach Beth Old magic that could bend reality in small ways. She learned about the other dimensions and the creatures that lived within. Woodside would whisper to her about ancient times and the few wydri that had fallen into madness disturbing nature's plans. The mind was an important and powerful tool, and the wydri had to have perfect control of their thoughts. One piece of magic unique to them was called mind-turning.

The most difficult bit of mind-turning was becoming Unseen. To wield will and focus Old magic so that everything bended around her. She could go unnoticed and people would automatically move out of her way. Woodside warned her if you stayed Unseen too long you could get stuck there and pushed into another dimension. Her 'lessons' consisted of standing absolutely still and concentrating on believing she was not there.

8 o' clock in the morning.

'I am the rosebush, I am the wall, You cannot see me,' Beth would repeat.

Noon

'Was that speck on the porch always there? It looks good.'

6 o'clock in the evening.

'I am the rosebush, I am…this is boring.'

8 o'clock at night.

'I am the rosebush, I am the wall…was she always there?'

"Mama… I can see you.", chimed Beth.

"Shush lass, I'm being Unseen."

"No one can hear you, but me."

"They can hear -you- lassie, now hush before I make you face the wall." Mama took another bite of a sandwich.

It was years before she had the concentration to focus Old magic.

At seventeen she was instructed on seeing the reality and being able to the manipulate it. Beth loved it and would delight in trying to sneak up to Mama and scare her. She always failed, but it was fun.

She felt that same excitement today, Beth Moore took in the vast view of valleys and hills and listened for the whispers that are carried on the wind. She turned and smiled at the sight of Mama Woodside hiking up her skirt and trotting up the cliff like a gazelle. 'That woman is unstoppable'. Today was her last lesson, last week she had met Death. This lesson was completely new to her and extremely dangerous. She was going to be taught Drifting.

Elder Woodside yelled, "We won't be able to do the lesson out here. Follow me, child." The Elder hiked up her skirts once more and the two began the short journey to Mama Woodside's house.

Beth laughed amiably, "Nice legs, hmmm, aren't ya visiting the Mr. Farthing tomorrow"

"Too old for this kind of jibber jabber. Put on some shoes for Small God's sake." Trudging closer to the house, they could see a bit of it through the dense branches.

"Remember something important about you… that always helps" murmured Mama Woodside as they came close to the house. "Light touches... and we only suggest we never delve deep."

"No muggles or sorcerers", Beth said.

The chubby woman opened the hatch to a hole in the ground that was covered with blankets.

"What is the first rule?" Woodside fixed her piercing eyes on Beth filling her with dread 'Will I ever become like that? And would it be a good thing?'

Beth solemnly repeated words that had been drilled into her head. "Don't lose yourself. The body is not yours. Always come back."

The Elder clasped hands with Beth jumped into the hole. They sat down and got into a comfortable positions. Woodside nodded to Beth, she looked at the sky and the two witches closed their eyes. Their breath stilled and to a passerby it would look like they were dead. In reality, teacher and student called out to the living creatures around them. They found a pair of birds and asked politely to come over and if they would carry their minds. The birds chirped in agreement. Soon Beth was soaring on the wind. The sensation of flying was glorious and she felt like she would never be alone.

'Food! Squirmy things, Squirmy things.' she heard the bird think. Her mind and the bird's were so close, she had to remind herself of the bakery and Woodside. Then Beth would nudge Chirp in one direction. (Birds don't need names) Chirp would follow the suggestion, because it wanted to. It did not matter much to the animal and Chirp had learned wydri always pay them for their services. Elder Woodside flew around Beth/Chirp and flew down to unite with her body. Beth should follow. She floated lower and spotted a struggling worm on the grass. 'Squirmy, squirmy.'Her robin swept down and snatched the worm, she thought to herself. 'This is not so hard, I wonder -Food Food! Squirmy!- what is all the fuss is about. Hmm that -branch- looks nice. -chirp- -chirp-' Elder Woodside captured Beth or Chirp in her hands and placed the robin on Beth. She felt she was tugged out of water and gasped for air. Beth tried to shake off the slimy gritty taste of the worm.

They returned to the house in silence. When they entered the Elder turned to her. "Could have become that bird. How did you stop?"

"It was like my body pulled me in." Beth's face flushed red. Her fingers played with the edge of her shirt.

"The body doesn't really like Drifting."

Mama Woodside looked away from her. "When you can wear midnight. It will be time for ya to leave, my dear lass"

Beth only nodded and tried to keep calm as she realized the closest person to her in the world was sending her away. Logically, she knew a village has no need of two wydri.

A few months past and Beth had mastered Borrowing. She exchanged farewells with the villagers and packed her few possessions. A treasured pack of cards, two shirts, and two pants. A small cap for travelling, because a woman cannot travel alone. For many years before, she was Mr. Moore a travelling tailor and sometimes an army cook. She constructed shambles and saw glimpses of girls like her. She would find them, test them, and then send them to villages with an Elder like Woodside.

The first test was the most important.

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January 1, 1926

"Hushabye, baby. Hushabye brat, let a lady sleep." whispered Mrs. Cole.

She was tired, "Hellions, they must have timed it for Marsha's absence."

She placed Tom, who had been fussing all day in the crib beside the crying Harry.

Promptly at 10 o' clock in the morning there was a knock on the front door. Mrs. Cole groaned. 'If this is another baby in a blanket, someone is going to pay.'

She opened the door and there was a tall, angular man stood in front of her. Mrs. Cole straightened her frock and pushed her hair back. Mrs. Cole felt her heart flutter for the first time in years. She felt light-headed.

The man said with a slight accent, "Greetings, may I step in? I'll only take a bit of your time."

When she realized he was talking to her, she shuffled to the side and let him in. She took in his measure. 'Clothes well-made, but simple clothes that a man could work in. He smells like freshly baked bread? I wonder if he wants to adopt a child.' The man had a gentle smile on his face and suddenly she felt like she had known him for years.

"Come in, come in."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"There is a bottle of gin I've been saving. Let me, let me pour you a drink." Mrs. Cole tittered and then paused, "Wait, blimey! this is embarrassing, I forgot your name."

"It's Mr. Moore," uttered the man smoothly, "I have come for my sons."

Mrs. Cole froze and turned to look at the man, "Which one of my angels are yours, sir?"

"Both black hair, one with green eyes, the others black?"

Mrs. Cole began twirling a bit of her gray hair on a finger.

"You know sir…I have never seen children of that description before. Perhaps -something- can refresh my memory?"

Beth considered her options, she had a pretty good idea of what Mrs. Cole was thinking. She scolded herself. She was supposed to be mind-turning a likeable fellow not an –attractive- man. People see what they want, hmm. Her gray eyes pierced though Mrs. Cole to see Cole's true self. ….she was repulsed by what she saw. The blind prejudice hidden under the guise of 'Christian' morals. A greedy heart and a thoughtless woman. She was tempted to raise the intensity of the mind-turn that she had done to make Cole into a blubbering mess. A moral struggle.

Mrs. Cole turned around and went to the nursery commencing her duties, no Mr. Moore had ever arrived. Beth was good at becoming Unseen. She listened carefully and followed the cries of a babe to the nursery.

Beth let reality spring back to normal and appeared silently. She took a moment to look at the children, oh! They were beautiful. Beth had helped in the raising of many children, tending to their wounds, teaching them small lessons. She had never seen such intelligent eyes. The Elder Moore smiled at the children, 'I never found my other half. I could have had children like these', she thought wistfully 'I can take a new title, Mother.' She cradled one boy on each arm and spun around, in her musing she did not notice three little kids were staring at her.

She began to reach out to twist their memory to that of a... -NO-

'No, no, no… it is one thing to mind-turn an adult, but never a child.'

On instinct she made herself Unseen. She grasped them tightly and prepared herself for reality to strike at her. 'The children!' she thought. Something unusual happened. In theory a living thing that was held by an Unseen wydri would be flung away from her with great force.

A tiny hand bumped her, Harry was playing with the tie she wore and Tom seemed adamant to play with it as well. 'It is not the time for thinking. Thank you, Small Gods.' The thin woman rushed out of the orphanage, and found a secluded corner where she popped back into reality. This time with two quiet passengers. Beth Moore walked towards a small but pleasant looking shop and entered an attic.

Beth beamed down at the little children, "Hullo, Harry. Tom." She asked them. "What'll we do today?"

"What a combination you will be." Beth said as she looked at Harry. She said to them, "Well I know little of you now, and some of what you'll be. Let me try ta see ya."

Beth turned at Harry through true eyes. "That's a bright soul. What's the little black spot?" Harry glared at her.

She looked more carefully. A whirling sphere was in the centre of his body glimmering and changing colours. A tiny tendril reached out from the sphere and brushed her cheek. It felt like a tiny electric shock. She backed up and rubbed her cheek.

"How should wizards work?", she sighed. "I shoulda planned better."

"At least you are here, right!" she tickled Tom. "…Should we look at you too?"

When she looked deeply in Tom's eyes with her true eyes, Beth turned away quickly, and Tom started crying. When he started Harry followed and wails filled the small room.

"It's okay, it is okay, this is…every sorcerer must be different."

Beth bustled about going through the motions of putting the children to sleep. She sat in a rocking chair and wondered if she had been talking to Tom, or convincing herself.

Worry began to settle in her mind. 'How do you raise powerful children, how do you guide someone who is not wydri?' Beth thought.

Her thoughts drifted to Elder Woodside. Elder Woodside.

Everyone called her Mama, because they had grown to love her. She never lied about the important stuff. Elder Woodside knew almost everything about being wydri. Those two were tied to wydri, but not complete wydri. It occurred to her that she might not be able to teach Tom, and if they were as powerful as she saw… She would have to leave the muggle world eventually. 'At least I can start ta wear black without pretending to be a widow.' Beth thought, 'I wonder if the pointed hat is a required thing.'

In order to be the guardian they needed, she would have to understand the sorcerers. Or Witches and Wizards. She would have to cast magic and deceive the eyes of wizards.

Beth carefully locked the door. She closed her eyes, and searched for something that felt like Harry. A couple streets down, was a shop she had passed many times. Beth believed strongly in words. 'Leaky Cauldron' did not inspire efficiency or an aptitude for any kind of cauldron based potion or stew.

Beth followed a man into the dimly lit bar.

"May I get you something, Miss?"

"Fiddlesticks!"

Beth started, she had sworn she had turn herself Unseen. She turned around quickly and found herself face to face with a young woman. She sighed in relief and walked around for a couple of hours. The environment was charming, however people are the reality she would use true eyes on every witch and wizard she saw.

When she arrived home, Tom and Harry were peacefully snoozing. There was a lot to think about.

She gazed at the boys. If they were to enter magical society? Would they have a better life?

She rose early and took out a small smooth stone. This one was Elder Woodside's and like the wydri' before her. She added what memories she could. She held it in her hands and searched. Ahh… She smirked 'These ones can certainly keep my secrets.' Strength through loyalty. How fitting.

Three days later.

"Hello, I need to speak to.." Beth looked at him briefly, "a bookskeeper?"

"Your key…" he resumed his calculations. Gesturing at another goblin.

Beth smiled cheerily. "Yes I need to speak to… –you-."

The goblin did not look up. "You may open an account with a minimum deposit of 50 galleons. To convert money, follow him, otherwise take your business out of here." Ragnok gestured at the next person in line.

Beth stood still, Lord Pollux Black walked around her. He dropped a key into the goblin's hand. "The Black Family Vault." Beth made a funny face at Lord Black.

Beth winked at Griphook, and chuckled to herself. The goblin looked confused, she set a small crystal with swirling etchings on the desk. Griphook touched the stone, and muttered to himself and glared at her. "Ragnorak will take you…Mr. Black". Beth watched Lord Black be escorted down a hall.

She gestured at the crystal "I made it fancy for you."

Griphook gestured to her covertly, she picked up a small suitcase and followed. When they had walked long enough. "Greetings, Wanderer or are you an Elder?" he asked.

"Elder Moore. I'm sorry bout the tricks… I just. Can -not- be seen yet. Your our last link to this world." She peered around at the rooms with curiosity. "In the long run, I believe this'll be… an agreeable situation for both of us." Beth smiled tentatively and straightened her tie.

"State your business."

"Griphook, correct?" Griphook eyed her warily, "You are familiar with us?." He nodded.

Beth paused and stated "We only come here when we must."

"Show me what you found. "

Beth nodded, I hope this doesn't hurt…here we go. Beth placed the crystal in his hands and held them there. She softly mind-turned the memory of an Elder who defied the her ancestors and revealed herself to a sorcerer. She was so intrigued that she delved deep into sorcery. The wydri caused the deaths of too many and the Elders of the time had caught her and imprisoned her. In the memory, the wydri sorceress gave an important object she crafted to the goblin king on her deathbed.

Griphook tensed and shook his head, "You have come to collect." Beth hmmed in agreement. "Follow me."

On her way walking out of the vaults Beth clasped the piece of wood in her hand. It had been permanently altered to force Old magic into sorcery. She held the wand and felt a strange warmth and euphoric feeling.

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Five years later

"Tom! Harry! It's that time again! Get down here. Right. this. minute." yelled Beth

Opposite to him rummaging through a chest, was the one person he, well the only person, he would miss if they were…well he wasn't, Harry was the only one he could be himself with. He was his and no others.

This was their room, littered with home-made action figures and books. It was painted a soothing blue colour and there were pictures of two boys moving inside a frame. Two babies, two toddlers, never was one without the other.

Tom felt a twinge of annoyance drift to him through their bond. Tom scoffed. Harry turned to glare at Tom. Which was not effective from the cute kid with mussed up hair and glowing green eyes.

Tom smirked from behind his book, "I do not understand how you can stand these." He lied as he carefully hid a book under the bed. "You get training too." Harry said softly he was holding a small blue crystal. Tom recognized it as the one he got from the beach. Harry placed the crystal in Tom's hand and his hand over Tom's. Images of experiencing Unseen and Drifting flitted through his mind. Then an image of him and Tom older in robes, they were using wands to do something. Then the image ended.

"Did mother give you that?" Tom put his book down. He peered at Harry with interest. "Or did you take it?"

"You are welcome." Tom sat up. How sadistic, Tom partly admired Beth's attempt to motivate him. Dangling a carrot in front of him…like he was an animal. His fists clenched.

-Thud- A book hit the wall next to Harry.

"Accident!" Harry frowned and gestured at a book. It floated and bumped Tom's head gently.

"I said it was an accident." Tom had learned that Harry's signals. "I didn't!"

"Get dressed and march your tiny little selves down here!" Beth brushed her hair. Over the years she had developed traits…one of them was vanity and the other avarice. She had a lucrative profession and had managed to mind-turn Ministry officials into discovering fictitious pureblood family. Beth had picked Morroth because the boys would be able to choose either path, she did not mind. She adjusted a silver necklace, she still did not know how Tom acquired it. The mirror said, "That blue is very nice on you, dear."

"Alright, Harry hold my hand. You too Tom." Tom reluctantly grasped her hand. He wasn't a baby. Tom clasped her hand, "Why do we go so far?"

Beth smiled and said, "So even the most powerful wizards will not find out our secrets." Tom smirked. Bethany Morroth had her uses.

With little fuss, they suddenly were gone with not a sound. It was like folding reality and stepping onto another place.

Suddenly they appeared out of the shadows at a hut in the middle of the forest. Beth led them to an old crumbling wall. "Do remember ta follow Harry this time."

"I thought today was sorcery, you promised." Tom scowled. "Did I?"

"You did." lied the small Harry. "Fiddlesticks."

"We can practice…sensing. Right, sensing magic."

"Now go over there and sit." said Beth. Tom wondered if this was another wydri trick. He had come to despise them.

"Hmm let me think. Which wydri ta pick." she muttered to herself. Tom was watching the wind blow Harry's hair around. It puzzled him that it's disarray only added to his charm. "Okay prepare yourself."

Beth sneaked a hand into her pocket. Tom was convinced that her pocket had some sort of expanding magic on it. It fit so many things she 'acquired'. It was an old habit, from her penniless days. Beth signalled them.

Tom didn't feel anything. "Try again, Mother." He reached and through the bond to Harry he felt elation and happiness. Like Harry was floating on air from the inside. Harry slumped for a bit. Tom leapt to his feet and shook Harry. He turned to Beth, and glared at her.

"Was that Old magic?" murmured Harry. Beth nodded, Harry said "It feels wild, but calm." Tom looked at Beth suspiciously. He said, "Was this a test?"

She drew herself up and said, "The first test. That is a memory of a wydri who wielded Old magic like a sword." Tom became silent. "I want to feel it, sorcery. -Now-." He put magic in the last word. It was not fair Harry had magic he didn't, so he would be the greatest sorcerer there ever was.

Beth sighed, "Will you ever say please?" Tom twitched, "Please."

First was a bright glow inside that coiled around tendrils stretching through the air. A core like the sun and magic that strikes like lightning. It was both disturbing for Tom, and interesting. To meditate and remember the exercise, the memory held and shifted in power. From tiny sparks to great bolts. Time past and after an hour Beth said, "That is a powerful Light wizard, but do not be fooled by their name." How interesting, it felt sorta like a hot sun and Tom knew he would recognize it if crossed. Beth chuckled Harry had fallen asleep beside him.

Tom thought Harry must of lost interest. "Prepare yourself." A heady rush of swirling power a liquid feeling that would rise into smoke filled him. When the smoke would strike out and return. To Tom's surprise he felt a deep sense of satisfaction and pleasure. It was gone immediately. She had only held it for a minute. "That was a very powerful memory of a Lord of Darkness." 'Lord of Darkness... I like the sound of that.'

Beth looked at Tom carefully, she considered the wisdom of what she had done. A shadow in the corner of the forest laughed. "IT WILL BEGIN, AGAIN." Tom craved for the feeling of dark power, but peered over at the dozing Harry. Soothed by the peaceful feeling coming from Harry, Tom lay down beside his brother... He could wait.

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More Harry and Tom next chapter.