Summary: After coming back from his tour of the world Harry Potter finds his homeland in a state of deceptive peace, dark things lurk in the shadows, Bellatrix Lestrange has escaped from Azkaban and there are rumors of the Dark Lord's imminent return.
Chapter 1: Full circle.
He appeared with a loud crack, stumbling slightly from the long apparation. A Snowy Owl took off from his shoulder with an undignified squawk and flew north. Watching her until he could no longer discern her white and black feathers the man wondered why the bird had never gotten used to the squeezing sensation of apparition, even after having side-alonged with him for nearly a thousand times during their trip.
Looking down he cast his eyes upon the dilapidated hut in front of him. It stood so close to the shore that high waves sometimes splashed into it, making the wood creak from the effort. It was a true testament to its unknown builders that the cabin was still partially standing upright .
He stepped forward, climbing over the numerous rocks that littered this little island with his braided beard swaying in the high wind and knocked on the door, wondering if there was another unlucky child who had been brought to the island in an attempt to keep him from being taken by the other "freaks". The slightest touch however made the door fall inwards. This time the rotten wood protested, cracking in multiple places, breaking like a large sheet of glass. "The hinges on the door had never been fixed after Hagrid had forced the door," he thought, "All the better".
Looking around inside, he saw that the roof had collapsed on one side of the only room in the shack, breaking the bed on which his aunt and uncle had slept during their short stay here. The other side however was still relatively sound. The fireplace was still intact and still as cold as when Vernon had failed to make a fire in it. The moldy couch Dudley had slept on was still there too albeit more moldy than he ever remembered it being.
He walked towards the three square feet of floor in front of the couch where he had met his eleventh birthday and smiled. Here had begun the best part of his life, here he had met the friendly half-giant Hagrid who had introduced him to the wizarding world and his heritage.
He was glad that after being away from Britain for so long he had come here first. A place that held a profound symbolism to him. He had come full circle, after traveling around the world for three years he had come back to the place where everything had started. The place where his life had truly begun. In the hut-on-the-rock, one mile off the Welsh coast, one mile from Godderick's Hallow, his parents' home, where his fear-driven uncle had unknowingly taken him.
Suddenly remembering why he was here he reached into the pocket of his robe and pulled out his trusty holly wand. With a single flick the floorboards he had slept on ten years ago dislodged themselves gracefully and were arranged in a neat pile on the other side of the room.
He looked down into the hole he had created,unsurprised at seeing black rocks which he promptly levitated out one by one until he could see the sandy earth beneath. Unwilling to compromise the structural integrity of the shack any further he charmed the rocks to float above the floor. Pocketing his wand he jumped down the hole. After digging a small crevice with his hands he shrugged off his backpack from which he procured an ornate totem pole. It was an inch shorter than his forearm and
slightly too thick to wrap his fingers around it. The wood it was made of had the color of polished charcoal and was littered with animals of his own carving, there was Prongs, Padfoot, Mooney and even Wormtail. The likeness of his own animagus form was carved out at the very top, in three dimensions, standing in a fierce stance he had once observed of this animal had found especially striking.
He remembered fondly how Sirius had laughed at him when he had danced around their campfire in an attempt to appease his totem, how the old dog had grasped his belly, screaming that his father had been a far better dancer than he, how he had finally succeeded in completing the transformation and how they had roamed the Siberian forests for weeks after in their animagus forms, how Sirius had explained that the totem pole had to touch the earth or he would be unable to reverse the transformation by himself and how even the Marauders, the best of friends at the time had never told each other where their totems were hidden.
Only much later he had understood why so few attempted the transformation or perhaps why so few succeeded. It was old magic, capricious and unwieldy, not only did it require the highest knowledge of transfiguration but also the appeasement of your totem creature. And once you had made that pact it would stay forever, share your body and soul, bestowing upon you many of it's qualities, making you a creature not unlike the werewolf. It also held it's dangers, for if the totem pole should be destroyed you would not only lose your ability to synchronize with your animal but also the part of your soul where it had resided, making you possibly insane, something not made easier by the ministry's restriction on animagi and the obligation to keep the poles in a ministry sanctioned place where they could remove them from the ground or destroy them on a whim.
Burying the pole he wasn't afraid that it would rot or be otherwise damaged, the wood had survived a thousands of years underwater already and was practically as hard as iron. He had traded the precious wood for some rocks enchanted with an everlasting but mild lumos charm with some mermen they had met while exploring the bottom of the Baikal lake. He and Sirius had stayed with them for a couple of weeks, learning much about their culture and language. The merpeople there prized any and all light making devices despite their own sensitive eyes, he couldn't blame them, it was dark as hell down there. They were also much more friendly towards wizards who sometimes came down there to trade than towards muggles who they hated with a passion for sinking cars on top of their houses in spring. They had a disturbing custom of trying to drown muggles on every opportunity which was thankfully suspended during Sirius' and his stay there.
The wood was very receptive to magic and there had been no complications when he had placed several powerful enchantments on it after imbuing in with animagus magic. Sirius had been impressed, he himself had used a dried out branch of the Whomping Willow which he had to soak in several dangerous potions to get anything near the same effect. He had even asked to have the leftover chunk for some experimentation but was refused without proper explanation at which Sirius had smirked knowingly, confusing his godchild to this day.
Carefully burying the pole he decided against casting more protective enchantments at the area as those would simply attract unwanted attention and force possible nosy wizards to unravel them. Discretion was the best protection in his mind besides the pole itself was already enchanted to the brim, making him confident that only the likes of Albus Dumbledore and possibly Voldemort could find it, let stand remove it
Climbing out of the hole he canceled the Hover charm and carefully replaced the rocks to their former place, the floorboards soon followed. After walking out the broken door he glanced back inside, and flicked his wand, equally dispersing the dust over all surfaces and after a quick reparo charm that made the door leap back to its former place he turned on his foot and disapparated without a sound, leaving no traces of his presence.