Warnings: Harry Potter and Crew belong to J.K. Rowling, I make no profit
Some of the writing may come out disfigured, I apologize
I do not own the poem at the end, or Shakespeare's writing
Also, I do not have a Beta Reader for this, so I'm sorry if there are mistakes. If you find some, please tell me in your review.
Chapter One: Descent Into the Maelstrom
Æternus Noctem
Harry traversed Diagon Alley, venturing back and forth through the many stores for his school supplies. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry actually sent him a letter informing him that he was welcomed back to the school for his seventh and last year; signed personally by Minerva McGonagall. He knew exactly why they asked him back...
Dumbledore...
Harry gritted his teeth. The man couldn't stand living without knowing all the answers, could he? He was a bloody know it all, just like Hermione. Harry's face softened from it's grimace with his thoughts on Hermione. He tried so many times. And it was still the same. Warmth flooded his veins when he thought of Hermione and Ron. He had tried so hard to hate them like the rest. And he did in the twisted sense that he hated his ever-present love for them...but he couldn't bring himself to hate them. Never them.
It was easy to hate himself. Oh yes. So easy to hate this malformed freak. Maybe when Hermione and Ron saw him at Hogwarts they would hate him. Harry let out a hysterical laugh. Wouldn't that make life easier?
Those few people walking in Diagon Alley on the ebony rain-filled day paused to look curiously at the man donned from head to toe in a black cape, his eyes conveniently shadowed by his hood, yet allowing him a little sight in the tumultuous rain.
His shopping done, Harry ambulated with the utmost stealth he possessed to his desired location. Upon reaching Nocturne Alley, Harry let out a mental sigh of relief. The shadows of Nocturne Alley concealed those who desired it perfectly. Here, here in the dank mildew of rotting flesh, among the lepers, whores, thieves, the deformity of mankind, here he was safe. No old man could save him here. If it was willed, here he could die in an instant by the forever shifting thoughts of the crazy man peeling off his clothes to run from his body, or the deranged woman with hundreds of daggers in her pockets continuously hacking off her hair until her blunt knife felt hair no more and instead sought skin.
Here in the Realm of Shadows itself, Harry prayed for freedom. His countenance dared all around him to stare, attack, kill. Blood so thick in quantity permeated the air. Here the Blood Lust was strong. Here he could finally be given his sought-after sanctuary from the world around him.
But the shadows teased him mercilessly, murmuring their need of his existence marred on their hands, yet they had no strength to possess that which they desired most.
Pathetic, thought Harry. It was disgustingly pathetic the way they crawled about, their minds contained within the depths of their minds. But who was the hypocrite to smote his brothers?
Harry let out another insane chuckle. Who was he to judge when he was trapped in his mind, the brink of insanity feet away from the line he tread?
"My brethren," he softly called out, the rain carrying his words along the dank streets, between the naked feet of the dead and into the waterfalls of the drains. "Oh my brethren."
"Ssseek those you wissh to sseek, yet cursse not those who are the sssame."
Harry stopped walking, his words washed away in the rain, the minds he enchanted safe from demise. A Parseltongue? Another, his same.
"I would not seek to ensnare you, Eadem [1]." Harry closed his eyes to find out where his converser was.
"In Mortissss and Vitae[2] is where I'm bound againssst my will, Differo [3]."
"Differo you call me, yet we are much alike, you and I."
"Yet we aren't, are we not? Mindssss and bodiesss are vasstly different if even a copy from the first.."
Harry ignored the last comment in search of the store Mortis and Vitae. He easily spotted it, regardless of the heaven's tears boring upon his shoulders, his cloak firmly latched to his body.
"Ssssso close, Differo. Sso closse. Mortiss has found another, hasss he not? Wasssste not time for ssimple pleasssuresss. Differo...my eadem..."
Inside the store was a gallery of living and dead tokens alike. Entrails lined the walls and vultures hung suspended from the ceiling, their life's force dripping out of them and onto the floor, coating it in a gory red paste. Hands held the cabinets aloft instead of wood, and they twitched under the weight of their burden, their feet for sale in the glass displays. Harry had bought all his thousands of dollars of potion supplies here.
His snake was along the back wall, caged in. Eadem was indeed less that 10 feet long, albeit, he stretched to about 9 feet long. He was a beautiful sleek black with flashes of silver and green adjourning his scales, seen only when he moved his body subtly in the light. His eyes bore into Harry, not begging but commanding his purchase and salvation from his narrow cage. Those eyes of a deep red, feeling Harry's thoughts that ran through his head as Harry could feel Eadem's. Those eyes of his. The same. His Eadem.
"I will have you."
"Yesss. Yess yoursssss."
Harry flicked his wrist, the cage fulminating with the power behind the simple spell. Eadem moved sinuously around the carnage of his once- dwelling to crawl up Harry's leg and wrap himself around Harry's torso, neck, and finally coming out from behind Harry's cloak to dangle against his chest. Harry casually made his way to the front of the store, not avoiding the ponds of blood, causing the slime on his shoe to flake off and hiss and bubble as it mixed with the blood.
The store owner, Mortis, leaned against his desk as if with the age of death closing upon him on his shoulders. He spoke in harsh whispers with a platinum-blond long-haired man who's presence radiated wealth. Lucius Malfoy sought the snake in the back for his personal collection, fearing never seeing another of it's kind.
Harry collected 4 Galleons from his pocket and placed them on the counter in front of Mortis and Lucius. The man set his gaze on Harry before realizing who his prized customer was.
"I will have him."
Mortis needn't ask who as Eadem snapped his jaw, promulgating his presence.
Lucius looked upon the fully cloaked boy with disdain. He raised his eyes to up the price for the snake and caught Mortis nodding his head, accepting the 4 Galleons for the snake. Harry walked out the door, listening to the ranting of Malfoy Sr.
"My Differo..."
Harry lifted Eadem's head to look lovingly into his eyes. He kissed Eadem, uttering,
"....diutius differo...iturus eadem...aequus ui domus iam nos...[4]" A mist parted his lips enveloping himself and Eadem in an atramentous haze. It stayed only momentarily before parting in halves, entering into Eadem and Harry's mouths and passing through their bodies.
"Now, my Alius Pars [5]....now, my love, we go home." Harry laid Eadem on his shoulder with the utmost care he could manage. For the first time in his life, he felt completed.
Harry shivered in his walk, clutching his cloak tighter around himself. Reaching to his shoulder, his fingers wrapped around Eadem, confirming Eadem's presence upon his side. He needed Eadem with him right now.
"Potter?" Eadem sibilantly hissed out, tasting the name on his tongue. "What isss 'Potter', Differo?"
"'Potter'?'" Eadem persisted. Something was hurting his Differo. Something that sent shivers to wrack his frame. The feeling, or memory, as Eadem came to determine his Differ? was recalling, was something horrid indeed.
"Differo!" Eadem all but cried out. He could feel Differ? going numb. Feeling a ferocious present grip him, he lunged at Harry and bit his neck, penetrating his vein and injecting his poison. Now Differo would stop trembling. Stop his whimpering.
Harry started and looked to Eadem. "Eadem, my Alius Pars, what have..." Harry swayed on his feet like a Foucault Pendulum, swinging in a constant direction to show the rotation of the Earth. "Poison, my love? Poison.."
"You will not die, Differo, my own. I would not bite the hand that feedsss me." Eadem undulated down Harry's body. He rested on Harry's leg, then bit into his Femoral Artery, injecting the counter-poison. Confident that it would spread through Harry's body, he climbed back up to rest once again on Harry's shoulder.
Harry looked towards Eadem through his fuzzy eyesight. "This was the most unkindest cut of all..." he whispered.
Eadem looked almost aporectically at Harry. "You will not die, I do not underssstand. Explain 'Potter' to me?"
"Potter," Harry whispered through clenched teeth, willing the memories away. "Potter is me."
"I am Potter, then?" Eadem replied, confused in his Differo's explanation.
"No. I am Harry Potter. I am known to others with that name, not Differo. You have named me Differo, love." Harry rested against the side of a building, close now to the main street of Diagon Alley.
The rain had drifted off to darken another town with it's wrath, leaving behind only its soggy puddles as a remembrance to all who came after its demise. Harry graciously stepped into the mass of people who embraced the sun which poured from the sky, attempting to erase all traces of the horrendous storm. People who couldn't stand to walk down the street. People who feared the rain. Harry gazed contemptuously at the lot of them. They were almost as bad as those he left behind...His brethren...
"My Differo. Harry Potter. It ssoundsss familiar, Parssss." Eadem hissed as a boy ran past, his cares forgotten as he joined his friends in splashing puddles. "Sssstupid humansssss. You are not them, Parssss. No. Differo isss not human...isss he?"
"No. I am not. Not anymore." Harry walked into a small out of the way Café. He was suddenly thirsty.
"What happened to Differo? You have the body of a human. Ssssmell like a human. Ssssmart like those not of human nature. What isss under your cloak? May I look?" Eadem didn't wait for Harry to confirm his question before he slinked under Harry's cloak, and in turn his shirt. He made a trail of examining his chest, arms, and then his back. Seconds later Eadem appeared back at Harry's shoulder, his lower body wrapping around Harry's torso. "Mosssst definitely not human back there."
"Not anymore. I was...changed recently. I'm no longer human, Eadem, love. You do not shiver out of fear, do you my Pars?" Harry cupped Eadem's face in his hand and brought it in front of his eyes.
"Never fear you, Parsssss. Never my Differo. Eadem underssstandssss. He seesssss Differo's mind. Yessss." Eadem left Harry's shoulder and ventured to the table Harry took a seat at, his body never fully leaving Harry's as his tail enclosed around Harry's arm.
"I would wish that you never have to fear me, Eadem. "
"Voldemort." Eadem hissed, glancing at Harry's reaction. There was none, and Harry looked blankly into the cup of tea he had ordered. Eadem examined the world outside his abode. It was everything he had hoped to see, and dreaded at the same time. There were people milling about everywhere. Short ones, tall ones, fat ones, slim ones. All sorts of eccentric clothing to be found. But no one dressed like his Differo did. "You live in this, and dwell in lover's eyes."
"Oh, Alius Pars, you do not understand the names you utter. Why speak Voldemort?" As hopeless as his words chosen were, Harry spoke them with his voice devoid of emotion, almost hinted with hate.
"Sssspeak Voldemort. Ssspeak Potter. If Voldemort wassss here, he would laugh ssssaying. 'Sssso great a fear of my name was amongssst them sspread, and I rejoiced.' Never fear him, Parsssss. Never fear yourssself. Cry 'havoc' and let sssslip the dogssss of war." Eadem slipped back into Harry's cloak, hiding himself from Harry and the world. Not more was spoken of him, the conversation ended.
Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war? Dogs of war. Dogs. Harry sipped his tea, grimacing as he tried to wash down the cold drink. With a simple blink of his eye, the tea was hot again, heating Harry's hands as he cradled the warm mug between them. He was cold. Always cold. He didn't feel the rain pelting down upon him, dampening and sodding his clothes, to anyone else would have been unbearable. Yet, he embraced the warm wind that curled around his body with open arms. He could see the millions of colors trapped in the breeze, feel them twist around his face and smell the scent carried his way. He could see so many new things. Need he not his glasses anymore. They were broken and buried with his spirit in the ashes of his once-standing house in Surrey. Voldemort had changed everything...again..
He sighed. How much did Eadem see? What an amazing creature he happened upon. What a blessing to his crumbling pillar of strength he called his soul. His prayer answered in the games that the Gods played on him. They acknowledged one of his requests finally, choosing to throw his others away into the crashing waves of the sea. Eadem was his eidolon traveling in the back of his mind. Out of reach, tempting him, but never coming to him or leaving. Only a shadow, specter, phantom, the wraith of his demise. And here he was, saving him. Crafty old man.
His tea done, Harry stood, throwing a few Knuts onto the table in payment. He would come here again. It was nice...in a homely way. Home...
Not know. Not if he could help it. He would not give in to the temptation of being lost in the surf of his mind's ocean.
Eadem made no movements to come above the shelter he found being hidden in Harry's cloak. It was dank, damp, and dark, all high on his preferences. Instead he spoke to Harry's with his voice muffled by the fabric.
"Differo. Assss much asss we love our new ssssurroundingss. You will catch cold if you sssstay in thiss cloak, sssssseeping with water. Human or not, you will be sssick."
Harry looked to where his breast pocket would be. If he could feel the cold or not, it would be best not to arrive at school the next day sick. He would never go to Madam Pomfry. She would surely require that he take off his shirt so she may go through the normal procedure of listening to his heart beat. He could imagine the horror etched on her face when he saw him his all his glory. His new body.
No, it would be best to heat himself and not catch cold. He laid his right hand upon his chest, feeling the soaking wet cloak beneath his fingers. He needed to be careful and not catch his cloak on fire, though he doubt that would happen, as wet as it was. Softly he spoke.
"Assiccare.." Thankfully the little amount of magic he used was enough to dry the whole cloak, his clothing underneath, and make Eadem jump out from inside, hissing in annoyance.
"Ssssstupid ssssauna.... "
Harry smiled and chuckled at his annoyed Alius Pars. His smile genuine, his laugh light without an insane twinge. Both would have sent the storm away and dried the puddles of water if he had dared smile for real before. It had been so long since he truly smiled. Not since Voldemort...
"You mussssn't. Not now. Sssso many around you. Feel them, Parssss. Feel them."
Harry concentrated on the presences around him. He closed his eyes, feeling the bodies moving around him. Was that...yes. The black behind his eyelids lit up to hundreds of white lights. "The people..." Harry said in awe. He could see their magic in his mind, all around him. He gently reached out his arm, and ran his finger along the side of one light floating by his right arm. It moved closer to him, brightening it's brilliance. Harry extended his left arm to another light and in turn touched that. More lights moved towards his open arms, glowing radiantly as they neared him.
"Open your eyesss, my Differo. Open and look upon your people..." Eadem whispered somewhere close to his left ear.
Obeying his command, Harry opened his eyes and blinked at the beaming sun in his eyes. All the occupants of Diagon Alley had stopped in their walking, chatting, and shopping. At least 20 of them had circled around Harry, in awe of the soft blue light surrounding him. Those he had touched in his mind glowed with a faint yellow, and where kneeling at his feet. Everyone was concentrated on the power they actually felt in Harry's direction. They were stuck in wonder, feeling worship rise up in them at the black figure that stood in the center of Diagon Alley. However sinister he looked, he had touched them all subconsciously with love and curiosity, even admiration of the beings that he lived among.
One, however, slunk back in the shadows. Curious it was indeed. He had been confused when his wife stopped suddenly in the midst of walking home from a day of shopping and turned around fiercely. She had gasped in surprise, then wrapped her arms around herself. A smile, true and indubitable, graced Narcissa Malfoy's face for the first time since she gave birth to her son.
Draco looked confusedly between his mother, who looked like she was going to cry from pure happiness, and his father, who hid himself in the shadows. Then Draco felt it, a distinct pull in the pit of his stomach, stretching through his body. He saw Blaise Zabini, standing only feet away from him, look towards Draco with a question on his face. He felt it too. Had everyone felt it? Blaise walked towards Draco, and away from the source of power with an obvious strain.
"Did you feel that?" Blaise asked Draco, who was looking at everyone around him. "It was, like something wonderful come true. Something that completed me. It was...wonderful."
"I did. I felt it. I..." Draco trailed off. His mother had just let a tear roll down her cheek. This wasn't really happening, was it? The very essence of his mother had gathered behind her eyes and revealed itself to the world. It was a phenomenon, a miracle that never should have happened, yet did. A birth of a new day, sparkling and pure. His mother tried to contain herself, but she sniffed and then choked as she tried desperately, and failed to hold her tears at bay. Crystals fell from her red eyes, which sparkled with joy. She was crying a river of the feelings that gathered inside her, coursing through her veins.
And she laughed. A beautiful musical note, echoing through the quiet of Diagon Alley, bouncing of the people around her and vibrating off the walls, windows, closed doors, and finally floating to the sky. The Lady of Malfoy Manor couldn't have been happier in all her 36 years of life. Never had she experienced such a feeling. Such delight in life itself.
Slowly, almost unnoticeable, the feeling started to leave her. When she noticed the presence cease to flow through her veins, she cried out in despair. It couldn't leave! Not yet! Tears of her impending distraught coursed down her face, ruining her make up.
Lucius looked to his wife and felt his heart clench. Narcissa was actually smiling..and laughing...crying in grief...but...she was crying. For years she had kept her face a blank slate, never opening up to anyone. Not even herself. And here she was, midst hundreds of persons, pouring her heart out for anyone to see. He half ran, half walked to her side, wrapping his arms around her. He pulled out his handkerchief and dabbed her face, soaking up her salty tears. He whispered affections into her ear, trying to dispel her tears, her anguish, her sorrow.
Eadem poured his fondness into Harry. He had just stopped his ghosts from taking control of him, and touched the hearts of those around him. His Differ? was an amazing creature, capable of reaching out to those around him. It was no small thing that he was the boy wonder. The Salvation of them all. He was even connected to them!
"Come, Differo. We must away now. You will kill yourssself if you continue to keep yoursself tied to them. Sssssee how they feed off your presssence in them? Try not to let them take it. Ssssshare. Ssshare their'sss with yourssss..."
Harry pulled from his connecting with the people in Diagon Alley. How had he done that? He had entered into every person in Diagon Alley! It was..unbelievable...
"Sssssilly creature. Not Diagon Alley only. Hoswartsssss....every witch within a thoussssand milesss of you....ssssilly Parssssss. You are ssso sssstrong. Sssso sssstrong..."
Harry stumbled back a step. There must have been millions of witches and wizards he had just connected with. Had stopped in the middle of their daily routines. He had to get out. Now. Summoning up the strength he had reserved, he ran from Diagon Alley, running the speed of a bullet between the people coming out of their daze, remembering him, but not knowing.
Lucius watched him leave. Curious indeed. He wondered who the boy was. The boy that had bought his snake. For such a pathetic price. He turned to Draco who was staring at Harry, or rather the trail of dust that rose beneath Harry's feet. Draco knew who it was...he felt it in him....the presence wasn't something new...he had felt it before. Several times. And so had Blaise. Noticing his father's piercing gaze upon his back, Draco bid Blaise goodbye, and walked to his parents. His mother had stopped crying, and was now slumped against Lucius, staring ahead into nothing. Her thoughts cascading around in her mind. All she knew is that she had to find that feeling again.
Harry slowed to a halt in front of a desultory inn at the end of Diagon Alley. Few sent questioning glances towards his tenebrous figure. He once again mentally thanked the aged wizard for his store or concealment cloaks. Aurors would have swarmed him countless times if people had seen the new him. If they even recognized their 'savior'. But it was so uncomfortable to keep himself trapped. He felt cramped, restricted.
The inn was quite nice, considering it couldn't have much usage, being too out of the way. However, it served his intentions of a room and board perfectly. The inside was almost completely bare, consisting of a few pieces of furniture scattered about, all fake mahogany, and a rug under the lone tea table. The owner was a lady, seemingly young in age, but covered in grime from no cleaning. Her slouched stance gave sight to a crooked back and a hooked nose. A sneer was present on her face upon noticing a customer, but the benefit of money made her think twice, smiling to reveal her decaying teeth.
Harry ignored the gruesome sight before him having seen worse elsewhere. He fished out a few Knuts and two Galleons, holding them in the palm of his hand, catching the owner's eyes with his gold.
"I require your best room. Tea served immediately and no visits. Anytime." Harry dropped the money onto the counter, it shining in the dark gloom of the in, the solitary candle illuminating it.
The lone witch scooped up the money hastily, fearing Harry would snatch it back again, diminishing her hope in ever leaving the inn. she was trapped, her father hating her so left her in the cumbersome situation of no money and a destitute inn to run. She spited men, and if the rich wanderer before her had anymore money, she doubted anyone would miss him if he never returned to whence he left from. To her fortunate being, she heart the soft rapture of lucre tapping against itself, and smiled maniacally. Soon she would be leaving this place. Soon her patron would have his tea.
"Sssshe ssseeks to leave thissssss place, Differo. Be weary, my Parsssss." Eadem blended against Harry's cloak, hindering the witch's sight of him. This would serve him well, carefully masking his presence beside Harry, the witch ignorant in her money lust.
She lead them to the last room in the hall, secluded and disguised by magic. Harry looked about the hall. It was absurdly narrow, room enough for two men to walk side by side, shoulders brushing in their sway. he heard Eadem's whispered caution, yet made no sign of understanding. The less the witch new about, the easier it would be to sleep tonight without waiting for her silent shadow to stalk him. As much as he encouraged it, his death would not be dealt by her hand. Timidly, albeit with curiosity, he probed the confines of her mind and instantly smiled in relief. She was delusional: a money hawk. Her keen eyes blind to the world except for the riches which she sought to spite the ghosts of her past. Her nascency brought upon the downfall and doom of her family, forever casting them from the rollick of Wizard Society, to the antediluvian inn to which she currently resided. She won her family's hatred with the piercing shriek of being born, their eyes forever blinking at her with scorn and malice.
But not was she a frail child to cry when whipped. She grew with the harsh reality of pain swirling before her eyes, concealing the love and wondrous world around her, forever leaving her tainted and hostile. To each her siblings she presented the gift of death to their sleeping minds, ridding herself of the ones that ailed her so. But hers was not to be a life of happiness. The phantoms of her murdered family haunted her waking hours so, plaguing her dreams, snatching from her what sanity she held onto with all her might. Left behind was the hallow carcass of a beaten body, so twisted with the never ending on slot of abuses. Left behind was the sole coherent thought to leave the house and wraiths which trapped her. Left behind was the She-Devil who killed so many for the prize of lucre their belongings carried.
"Your room." It was croaked in a harsh whisper. So long since she conversed with anyone besides her broken reflection in the mirror.
"It will do. My tea; I require it not. Leave me." Harry watched the woman go. Mind reading was not something he was about to come familiar with. Though, he knew that she could break through the simple barrier of magic wards to kill her victims in the similar fashion of those she shared a common blood with.
Harry carefully took Eadem from his neck and laid him on the decisively well-preserved bed. His cloak was too much to bare, the burden a weight taking it's toll. One last glance around the room and a strong sealing spell gave him the small piece of mind that he wouldn't be seen. he pulled his hood back, finally revealing the face that once-held glasses of an almost-blind boy, and the scar of his death gone wrong. No more were the glasses needed. His eyes, once a glorious emerald green like that of his mother glowed a dull red. His scar, so much his legend and self, resided on his enemy, his forehead unmarred and smooth to perfection. he had grown older in the mishaps of his summer, a stout 16 year old boy, forced into the body of a man too soon. his face had lost all its round qualities feasting at Hogwarts served him, but was now long and hallow. He was deathly pale, a grand contrast to his almost black hair grown longer and more untidy without much care except for the simple rubber band that held it tighter away from his face. He was no longer Harry Potter, generally happy boy with friends and a home in Hogwarts. he was now Harry Potter, Differo, out casted by the ones he trusted most, grown too wise too soon.
Lastly, Harry pride his cloak from his back heedful of it sticking to his back as a bandage to a healing wound, too quick would tear. With his cloak finally off, Harry all but collapsed on to his bed. Hesitantly, he raised his hands to his line of vision. They were the last to go unmarked on his upper body. Once, while spending the summer with Hermione, they had stole away one afternoon to see a movie of their choice. Thought neither had seen the first, they watched the sequel to the movie X-Men. It was fun, and they enjoyed watching a movie about people who were treated as they would be, had the Wizarding World merged with that of the Muggle one.
And now Harry sat on his bed, his body covered in tattoos. They all connected with one another, flowing about his arms onto his shoulders, down his chest and up to his neck. Only his left cheek contained part of the tattoo, moving then to his ear and down his back. Every line was in perfect symmetry with another on the opposite side of his body, and they all started on the skin between his two wings.
His tattoos, like those of the burns on the body of the creature in the movie he saw, represented his sins. Too powerful and untamed had his fury been the night Voldemort attacked his home in Surrey. Too naive was he to understand the spell. And too hurt was he by the betrayal of his godfather and Remus to think clearly. The tattoos. his hours of pain upon etching into his flesh and soul forever remind himself with the marks of those he killed that night. His sins ne'er ever be forgotten, for they are present everywhere he goes, the pain of their making never fully gone, a remembrance of the pain he caused for others. They were black, no color fitting so well into the persona of his self-demoralization, as the absence of color itself. No color blending so greatly with his ashen skin, no color blending so perfectly as to look as if it were bleeding into his tattoos.
Regardless of his hate for his newest appendage, they were beautiful, even to one such as himself who blamed them for all. He was not supposed to have wings. They were not supposed to happen. No one in all the decades of the Wizarding World had successfully obtained wings capable of flight on their being. Many had taken wings from birds and magicked them onto their backs, but never into their bodies with bone reconstruction for flight. He was the only on who never tried and hated them with a passion. The horrible beautiful wings granted him nothing but the loss of his family.
"They are beautiful, Differo. I sssssee you. Know you. Feel you. Parssss hatesssss, yet you are a lover, Borrow Cupid'ssssss wingssss. They sssserve you, no? Hate encompasssesssss you. Not you, Differo. Never you. You mussssst not give in and loossssse your love. All thesse are ssssaved if you will fly away...."
"I can't . Not yet, my love. If I fly now, I fly away from life. Fly away." Harry walked to the window, gazing out into the dark musk of swirling fog. His eyes could see the beaten dog cantering the ground of the deserted Diagon Alley, forging for it's dinner that it's owner never provided. He closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath, pressing his forehead against the cold windowpane. His scar may not be present, but he still felt it boring into his head. "Fly away," he whispered. "Fly away..."
"Come. Ssssleep. You lack all the naturess, sssssssleep."
Harry looked to Eadem who curled himself under the covers. Was his advice naught for Harry but for himself? He held his fond chuckle at bay. So much the snake, was Eadem. But sleep was not yet for him. He felt awake, alive. Sickening as the thought was, he wished nothing more than to reach out to those he did earlier, cradle them in his arms. His children. Harry laughed a little. Who was he to call them children, when they had many years on him? He cast one last look at the fogged window, and out into the night, deciding he must sleep sooner or later.
"For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come?"
It was not yet midnight when Harry felt Eadem's tongue whip his cheek, hear his hissing. Instantly he was awake, alert. "What is it, Eadem?"
"Sssssshe comess. Ssshe comess now for my Parsssssss."
Harry heard the rattle of the door knob in her attempt to open it. It did not budge, and he heard distinctly the shriek of displeasure spring forth from her mouth. He hadn't thought to put a very strong warding spell up, believing her not to be able to open it. She did, in fact, seem to have grown in power, her rage doubling the hate which she used to burst the door open. Once she saw that the room's occupants where not sleeping, she screamed into the dead night and flung herself at the doorway. Harry's shields held, but temporarily. He cursed himself for not applying the strongest ones he had, for being too sure she could do no harm. With one final screech like that of a dying animal singing it's woe, she broke through his magic.
Harry jumped to attention, his wings hidden in the dark of the room. With one hand he held her at bay, but she struggled against his hold. He brought his second hand to grasp her in place, but yet she evaded capture. She was powerful, not so much as he, but enough to make him grit his teeth and lash out with a strike of a fire whip. Her shrill voice cried out into the night as his fire connected with her skin, leaving a burnt line across her arm. Faltering for one second, Harry loosened his grip on her, and she broke free. Her hand raised above her head, she held a glowing dagger, encrusted with dried blood, its writing dulled with the killings it's committed, and ran at him. He quickly threw up a protective bubble and she crashed into it, her dagger mearly bouncing off. Not to be overtaken, she stood and threw herself at him again, her squeal penetrating his bubble. Her cry was that of a banshee and Harry momentarily brought his hands to his ears to block the call, protection forgotten.
In that instant of calm before he could react, she rose against him, clawing at his chest. Harry arched at the pain, his wings rising to spread out above him, catching in the moonlight. At once she froze and threw herself to the floor. Tremors wracked her body and tears spilled from her eyes, her own blood leaking from her body as her sign of remorse. Gently, with caution, Harry lowered himself to his knees in front of her and reached out his left arm. She flinched away from him, but never brought her face up to look into his eyes. Gathering courage with her wretched form and quivering mass, Harry lifted her chin to make her look into his eyes. At once her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she screamed in pain and grief.
Harry wrapped his arms around the tearful girl, gathering her into a hug of comfort, understanding her misery and suffering.
"Forgive me, forgive me," she wept, rocking back and forth. Her hands tightened behind his back, shaking as they grazed the fluffy small feathers at his wing joints. "My angel..Oh my angel...you've finally come...Forgive me.."
Harry once pulled away from her suddenly small frame, his gaze piercing her eyes. Slowly, he leaned down and rubbed his cheek against hers, catching her tears with his tongue. "All is forgiven," he whispered into her ear. Keeping his eye's firmly locked with her's, he tenderly kissed her lips.
Her eyes widened, light encircling her body. Quickly, in the moment his lips touched hers, all the dirt of ages peeled from her body, opening her white skin to be tickled by the slight breeze of an open window and kissed by the light of the moon. The grease of her hair stripped away, her straight hair in knots undone, curling to a healthy shine. And finally, her clothing slid off her body, her back straightening from it's bend, her nose growing smaller until it was unhooked. Her once brown eyes turned a bright blue, sparkling with salty tears instead of the blood of her inside wounds.
She snuggled into Harry's embrace, smiling with her rosy lips, her teeth pearls in the ocean. Her breath, once pants of effort, slowed to calm intakes of air, fresh for the first time in her many years. She was young again. No more than a child first entering her teen years, the physical abuse of the family not yet started. She reached to her neck, a crystal pendant dangling on a silver chain. With quivering fingers, so graceful with youth, she undid the necklace, opening Harry's strong hand and placing it within.
"Please.." she begged, her voice harmonious and sweet, not yet dried and dead.
Harry knew what she asked of him. Knew how hard it would be, yet couldn't deny her. She who had lived through so much, and asking only one simple thing from him. With a difficulty Harry never knew before, he clenched his hand around the crystal, shattering it in his palm, a lone tear leaking down his cheek.
In his arms, with her head on his heart, the girl took in one last shuddering breath before she closed her eyes in death. Harry tightened his hold on her deceased body, hoping that for once, she would have the peace she so deserved and sought after. Her body, still pale with rebirth, waned until there was a ghostly outline of where she once lay, the breeze of wind finally scattering the few lights of where her eyes had been, freeing her forever from this plane of existence.
Harry stood on shaky legs, Eadem coming to rest against his heart, no words spoken in the quiet of the night. For none needed to be said. Harry quietly gathered his belongings, fearing that if he broke the soundless night, he would break the spell of peace so newly attained. Quickly he left the inn, he could no longer stay in such a sad place. Standing a few hundred feet in front of the entrance, he raised his right hand towards the building and whispered a spell that was carried by the wind to torch the building until nothing remained. Silently he drew his hood around his face and turned away from the fiery glow of the inn. The spell lasted seconds only, the girl's home no more, and the wind picked up to scatter those few ashes left over, a soft happy laughter of a child's echoing in it's dance.
[1] Eadem- "Same" [2] Mortis and Vitae - "Death and Life" [3] Differo - "Different, Differ" [4] ....di?tius differ?...?t?rus eadem...aequus ?i domus iam n?s.. "Once different, now same, two hearts in one home." [5] Alius Pars: "Other part, half"
Descent Into the Maelstrom
Deeper into darkness, enamored of the night
I've come to love the pain of never being right.
Sorrow is truly sweet, when embraced with open arms
Absolve yourself of sin, my friend, and let yourself be harmed.
Don't turn away your face from me, I will not be denied;
There's a beast inside you man, drown in the blood-dimmed tide!
Your petty acts of kindness only make your dull life worse
Desecrate your holy place, relish in God's curse!
Betray the ones you love! There is no sweeter pain
Bathe in blood until you find your heart forever stained.
There is no rescue for you now, you've burned the one way home
You're free from all, and now you have to deal with -- you -- alone.
Some of the writing may come out disfigured, I apologize
I do not own the poem at the end, or Shakespeare's writing
Also, I do not have a Beta Reader for this, so I'm sorry if there are mistakes. If you find some, please tell me in your review.
Chapter One: Descent Into the Maelstrom
Æternus Noctem
Harry traversed Diagon Alley, venturing back and forth through the many stores for his school supplies. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry actually sent him a letter informing him that he was welcomed back to the school for his seventh and last year; signed personally by Minerva McGonagall. He knew exactly why they asked him back...
Dumbledore...
Harry gritted his teeth. The man couldn't stand living without knowing all the answers, could he? He was a bloody know it all, just like Hermione. Harry's face softened from it's grimace with his thoughts on Hermione. He tried so many times. And it was still the same. Warmth flooded his veins when he thought of Hermione and Ron. He had tried so hard to hate them like the rest. And he did in the twisted sense that he hated his ever-present love for them...but he couldn't bring himself to hate them. Never them.
It was easy to hate himself. Oh yes. So easy to hate this malformed freak. Maybe when Hermione and Ron saw him at Hogwarts they would hate him. Harry let out a hysterical laugh. Wouldn't that make life easier?
Those few people walking in Diagon Alley on the ebony rain-filled day paused to look curiously at the man donned from head to toe in a black cape, his eyes conveniently shadowed by his hood, yet allowing him a little sight in the tumultuous rain.
His shopping done, Harry ambulated with the utmost stealth he possessed to his desired location. Upon reaching Nocturne Alley, Harry let out a mental sigh of relief. The shadows of Nocturne Alley concealed those who desired it perfectly. Here, here in the dank mildew of rotting flesh, among the lepers, whores, thieves, the deformity of mankind, here he was safe. No old man could save him here. If it was willed, here he could die in an instant by the forever shifting thoughts of the crazy man peeling off his clothes to run from his body, or the deranged woman with hundreds of daggers in her pockets continuously hacking off her hair until her blunt knife felt hair no more and instead sought skin.
Here in the Realm of Shadows itself, Harry prayed for freedom. His countenance dared all around him to stare, attack, kill. Blood so thick in quantity permeated the air. Here the Blood Lust was strong. Here he could finally be given his sought-after sanctuary from the world around him.
But the shadows teased him mercilessly, murmuring their need of his existence marred on their hands, yet they had no strength to possess that which they desired most.
Pathetic, thought Harry. It was disgustingly pathetic the way they crawled about, their minds contained within the depths of their minds. But who was the hypocrite to smote his brothers?
Harry let out another insane chuckle. Who was he to judge when he was trapped in his mind, the brink of insanity feet away from the line he tread?
"My brethren," he softly called out, the rain carrying his words along the dank streets, between the naked feet of the dead and into the waterfalls of the drains. "Oh my brethren."
"Ssseek those you wissh to sseek, yet cursse not those who are the sssame."
Harry stopped walking, his words washed away in the rain, the minds he enchanted safe from demise. A Parseltongue? Another, his same.
"I would not seek to ensnare you, Eadem [1]." Harry closed his eyes to find out where his converser was.
"In Mortissss and Vitae[2] is where I'm bound againssst my will, Differo [3]."
"Differo you call me, yet we are much alike, you and I."
"Yet we aren't, are we not? Mindssss and bodiesss are vasstly different if even a copy from the first.."
Harry ignored the last comment in search of the store Mortis and Vitae. He easily spotted it, regardless of the heaven's tears boring upon his shoulders, his cloak firmly latched to his body.
"Ssssso close, Differo. Sso closse. Mortiss has found another, hasss he not? Wasssste not time for ssimple pleasssuresss. Differo...my eadem..."
Inside the store was a gallery of living and dead tokens alike. Entrails lined the walls and vultures hung suspended from the ceiling, their life's force dripping out of them and onto the floor, coating it in a gory red paste. Hands held the cabinets aloft instead of wood, and they twitched under the weight of their burden, their feet for sale in the glass displays. Harry had bought all his thousands of dollars of potion supplies here.
His snake was along the back wall, caged in. Eadem was indeed less that 10 feet long, albeit, he stretched to about 9 feet long. He was a beautiful sleek black with flashes of silver and green adjourning his scales, seen only when he moved his body subtly in the light. His eyes bore into Harry, not begging but commanding his purchase and salvation from his narrow cage. Those eyes of a deep red, feeling Harry's thoughts that ran through his head as Harry could feel Eadem's. Those eyes of his. The same. His Eadem.
"I will have you."
"Yesss. Yess yoursssss."
Harry flicked his wrist, the cage fulminating with the power behind the simple spell. Eadem moved sinuously around the carnage of his once- dwelling to crawl up Harry's leg and wrap himself around Harry's torso, neck, and finally coming out from behind Harry's cloak to dangle against his chest. Harry casually made his way to the front of the store, not avoiding the ponds of blood, causing the slime on his shoe to flake off and hiss and bubble as it mixed with the blood.
The store owner, Mortis, leaned against his desk as if with the age of death closing upon him on his shoulders. He spoke in harsh whispers with a platinum-blond long-haired man who's presence radiated wealth. Lucius Malfoy sought the snake in the back for his personal collection, fearing never seeing another of it's kind.
Harry collected 4 Galleons from his pocket and placed them on the counter in front of Mortis and Lucius. The man set his gaze on Harry before realizing who his prized customer was.
"I will have him."
Mortis needn't ask who as Eadem snapped his jaw, promulgating his presence.
Lucius looked upon the fully cloaked boy with disdain. He raised his eyes to up the price for the snake and caught Mortis nodding his head, accepting the 4 Galleons for the snake. Harry walked out the door, listening to the ranting of Malfoy Sr.
"My Differo..."
Harry lifted Eadem's head to look lovingly into his eyes. He kissed Eadem, uttering,
"....diutius differo...iturus eadem...aequus ui domus iam nos...[4]" A mist parted his lips enveloping himself and Eadem in an atramentous haze. It stayed only momentarily before parting in halves, entering into Eadem and Harry's mouths and passing through their bodies.
"Now, my Alius Pars [5]....now, my love, we go home." Harry laid Eadem on his shoulder with the utmost care he could manage. For the first time in his life, he felt completed.
Harry shivered in his walk, clutching his cloak tighter around himself. Reaching to his shoulder, his fingers wrapped around Eadem, confirming Eadem's presence upon his side. He needed Eadem with him right now.
"Potter?" Eadem sibilantly hissed out, tasting the name on his tongue. "What isss 'Potter', Differo?"
"'Potter'?'" Eadem persisted. Something was hurting his Differo. Something that sent shivers to wrack his frame. The feeling, or memory, as Eadem came to determine his Differ? was recalling, was something horrid indeed.
"Differo!" Eadem all but cried out. He could feel Differ? going numb. Feeling a ferocious present grip him, he lunged at Harry and bit his neck, penetrating his vein and injecting his poison. Now Differo would stop trembling. Stop his whimpering.
Harry started and looked to Eadem. "Eadem, my Alius Pars, what have..." Harry swayed on his feet like a Foucault Pendulum, swinging in a constant direction to show the rotation of the Earth. "Poison, my love? Poison.."
"You will not die, Differo, my own. I would not bite the hand that feedsss me." Eadem undulated down Harry's body. He rested on Harry's leg, then bit into his Femoral Artery, injecting the counter-poison. Confident that it would spread through Harry's body, he climbed back up to rest once again on Harry's shoulder.
Harry looked towards Eadem through his fuzzy eyesight. "This was the most unkindest cut of all..." he whispered.
Eadem looked almost aporectically at Harry. "You will not die, I do not underssstand. Explain 'Potter' to me?"
"Potter," Harry whispered through clenched teeth, willing the memories away. "Potter is me."
"I am Potter, then?" Eadem replied, confused in his Differo's explanation.
"No. I am Harry Potter. I am known to others with that name, not Differo. You have named me Differo, love." Harry rested against the side of a building, close now to the main street of Diagon Alley.
The rain had drifted off to darken another town with it's wrath, leaving behind only its soggy puddles as a remembrance to all who came after its demise. Harry graciously stepped into the mass of people who embraced the sun which poured from the sky, attempting to erase all traces of the horrendous storm. People who couldn't stand to walk down the street. People who feared the rain. Harry gazed contemptuously at the lot of them. They were almost as bad as those he left behind...His brethren...
"My Differo. Harry Potter. It ssoundsss familiar, Parssss." Eadem hissed as a boy ran past, his cares forgotten as he joined his friends in splashing puddles. "Sssstupid humansssss. You are not them, Parssss. No. Differo isss not human...isss he?"
"No. I am not. Not anymore." Harry walked into a small out of the way Café. He was suddenly thirsty.
"What happened to Differo? You have the body of a human. Ssssmell like a human. Ssssmart like those not of human nature. What isss under your cloak? May I look?" Eadem didn't wait for Harry to confirm his question before he slinked under Harry's cloak, and in turn his shirt. He made a trail of examining his chest, arms, and then his back. Seconds later Eadem appeared back at Harry's shoulder, his lower body wrapping around Harry's torso. "Mosssst definitely not human back there."
"Not anymore. I was...changed recently. I'm no longer human, Eadem, love. You do not shiver out of fear, do you my Pars?" Harry cupped Eadem's face in his hand and brought it in front of his eyes.
"Never fear you, Parsssss. Never my Differo. Eadem underssstandssss. He seesssss Differo's mind. Yessss." Eadem left Harry's shoulder and ventured to the table Harry took a seat at, his body never fully leaving Harry's as his tail enclosed around Harry's arm.
"I would wish that you never have to fear me, Eadem. "
"Voldemort." Eadem hissed, glancing at Harry's reaction. There was none, and Harry looked blankly into the cup of tea he had ordered. Eadem examined the world outside his abode. It was everything he had hoped to see, and dreaded at the same time. There were people milling about everywhere. Short ones, tall ones, fat ones, slim ones. All sorts of eccentric clothing to be found. But no one dressed like his Differo did. "You live in this, and dwell in lover's eyes."
"Oh, Alius Pars, you do not understand the names you utter. Why speak Voldemort?" As hopeless as his words chosen were, Harry spoke them with his voice devoid of emotion, almost hinted with hate.
"Sssspeak Voldemort. Ssspeak Potter. If Voldemort wassss here, he would laugh ssssaying. 'Sssso great a fear of my name was amongssst them sspread, and I rejoiced.' Never fear him, Parsssss. Never fear yourssself. Cry 'havoc' and let sssslip the dogssss of war." Eadem slipped back into Harry's cloak, hiding himself from Harry and the world. Not more was spoken of him, the conversation ended.
Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war? Dogs of war. Dogs. Harry sipped his tea, grimacing as he tried to wash down the cold drink. With a simple blink of his eye, the tea was hot again, heating Harry's hands as he cradled the warm mug between them. He was cold. Always cold. He didn't feel the rain pelting down upon him, dampening and sodding his clothes, to anyone else would have been unbearable. Yet, he embraced the warm wind that curled around his body with open arms. He could see the millions of colors trapped in the breeze, feel them twist around his face and smell the scent carried his way. He could see so many new things. Need he not his glasses anymore. They were broken and buried with his spirit in the ashes of his once-standing house in Surrey. Voldemort had changed everything...again..
He sighed. How much did Eadem see? What an amazing creature he happened upon. What a blessing to his crumbling pillar of strength he called his soul. His prayer answered in the games that the Gods played on him. They acknowledged one of his requests finally, choosing to throw his others away into the crashing waves of the sea. Eadem was his eidolon traveling in the back of his mind. Out of reach, tempting him, but never coming to him or leaving. Only a shadow, specter, phantom, the wraith of his demise. And here he was, saving him. Crafty old man.
His tea done, Harry stood, throwing a few Knuts onto the table in payment. He would come here again. It was nice...in a homely way. Home...
Not know. Not if he could help it. He would not give in to the temptation of being lost in the surf of his mind's ocean.
Eadem made no movements to come above the shelter he found being hidden in Harry's cloak. It was dank, damp, and dark, all high on his preferences. Instead he spoke to Harry's with his voice muffled by the fabric.
"Differo. Assss much asss we love our new ssssurroundingss. You will catch cold if you sssstay in thiss cloak, sssssseeping with water. Human or not, you will be sssick."
Harry looked to where his breast pocket would be. If he could feel the cold or not, it would be best not to arrive at school the next day sick. He would never go to Madam Pomfry. She would surely require that he take off his shirt so she may go through the normal procedure of listening to his heart beat. He could imagine the horror etched on her face when he saw him his all his glory. His new body.
No, it would be best to heat himself and not catch cold. He laid his right hand upon his chest, feeling the soaking wet cloak beneath his fingers. He needed to be careful and not catch his cloak on fire, though he doubt that would happen, as wet as it was. Softly he spoke.
"Assiccare.." Thankfully the little amount of magic he used was enough to dry the whole cloak, his clothing underneath, and make Eadem jump out from inside, hissing in annoyance.
"Ssssstupid ssssauna.... "
Harry smiled and chuckled at his annoyed Alius Pars. His smile genuine, his laugh light without an insane twinge. Both would have sent the storm away and dried the puddles of water if he had dared smile for real before. It had been so long since he truly smiled. Not since Voldemort...
"You mussssn't. Not now. Sssso many around you. Feel them, Parssss. Feel them."
Harry concentrated on the presences around him. He closed his eyes, feeling the bodies moving around him. Was that...yes. The black behind his eyelids lit up to hundreds of white lights. "The people..." Harry said in awe. He could see their magic in his mind, all around him. He gently reached out his arm, and ran his finger along the side of one light floating by his right arm. It moved closer to him, brightening it's brilliance. Harry extended his left arm to another light and in turn touched that. More lights moved towards his open arms, glowing radiantly as they neared him.
"Open your eyesss, my Differo. Open and look upon your people..." Eadem whispered somewhere close to his left ear.
Obeying his command, Harry opened his eyes and blinked at the beaming sun in his eyes. All the occupants of Diagon Alley had stopped in their walking, chatting, and shopping. At least 20 of them had circled around Harry, in awe of the soft blue light surrounding him. Those he had touched in his mind glowed with a faint yellow, and where kneeling at his feet. Everyone was concentrated on the power they actually felt in Harry's direction. They were stuck in wonder, feeling worship rise up in them at the black figure that stood in the center of Diagon Alley. However sinister he looked, he had touched them all subconsciously with love and curiosity, even admiration of the beings that he lived among.
One, however, slunk back in the shadows. Curious it was indeed. He had been confused when his wife stopped suddenly in the midst of walking home from a day of shopping and turned around fiercely. She had gasped in surprise, then wrapped her arms around herself. A smile, true and indubitable, graced Narcissa Malfoy's face for the first time since she gave birth to her son.
Draco looked confusedly between his mother, who looked like she was going to cry from pure happiness, and his father, who hid himself in the shadows. Then Draco felt it, a distinct pull in the pit of his stomach, stretching through his body. He saw Blaise Zabini, standing only feet away from him, look towards Draco with a question on his face. He felt it too. Had everyone felt it? Blaise walked towards Draco, and away from the source of power with an obvious strain.
"Did you feel that?" Blaise asked Draco, who was looking at everyone around him. "It was, like something wonderful come true. Something that completed me. It was...wonderful."
"I did. I felt it. I..." Draco trailed off. His mother had just let a tear roll down her cheek. This wasn't really happening, was it? The very essence of his mother had gathered behind her eyes and revealed itself to the world. It was a phenomenon, a miracle that never should have happened, yet did. A birth of a new day, sparkling and pure. His mother tried to contain herself, but she sniffed and then choked as she tried desperately, and failed to hold her tears at bay. Crystals fell from her red eyes, which sparkled with joy. She was crying a river of the feelings that gathered inside her, coursing through her veins.
And she laughed. A beautiful musical note, echoing through the quiet of Diagon Alley, bouncing of the people around her and vibrating off the walls, windows, closed doors, and finally floating to the sky. The Lady of Malfoy Manor couldn't have been happier in all her 36 years of life. Never had she experienced such a feeling. Such delight in life itself.
Slowly, almost unnoticeable, the feeling started to leave her. When she noticed the presence cease to flow through her veins, she cried out in despair. It couldn't leave! Not yet! Tears of her impending distraught coursed down her face, ruining her make up.
Lucius looked to his wife and felt his heart clench. Narcissa was actually smiling..and laughing...crying in grief...but...she was crying. For years she had kept her face a blank slate, never opening up to anyone. Not even herself. And here she was, midst hundreds of persons, pouring her heart out for anyone to see. He half ran, half walked to her side, wrapping his arms around her. He pulled out his handkerchief and dabbed her face, soaking up her salty tears. He whispered affections into her ear, trying to dispel her tears, her anguish, her sorrow.
Eadem poured his fondness into Harry. He had just stopped his ghosts from taking control of him, and touched the hearts of those around him. His Differ? was an amazing creature, capable of reaching out to those around him. It was no small thing that he was the boy wonder. The Salvation of them all. He was even connected to them!
"Come, Differo. We must away now. You will kill yourssself if you continue to keep yoursself tied to them. Sssssee how they feed off your presssence in them? Try not to let them take it. Ssssshare. Ssshare their'sss with yourssss..."
Harry pulled from his connecting with the people in Diagon Alley. How had he done that? He had entered into every person in Diagon Alley! It was..unbelievable...
"Sssssilly creature. Not Diagon Alley only. Hoswartsssss....every witch within a thoussssand milesss of you....ssssilly Parssssss. You are ssso sssstrong. Sssso sssstrong..."
Harry stumbled back a step. There must have been millions of witches and wizards he had just connected with. Had stopped in the middle of their daily routines. He had to get out. Now. Summoning up the strength he had reserved, he ran from Diagon Alley, running the speed of a bullet between the people coming out of their daze, remembering him, but not knowing.
Lucius watched him leave. Curious indeed. He wondered who the boy was. The boy that had bought his snake. For such a pathetic price. He turned to Draco who was staring at Harry, or rather the trail of dust that rose beneath Harry's feet. Draco knew who it was...he felt it in him....the presence wasn't something new...he had felt it before. Several times. And so had Blaise. Noticing his father's piercing gaze upon his back, Draco bid Blaise goodbye, and walked to his parents. His mother had stopped crying, and was now slumped against Lucius, staring ahead into nothing. Her thoughts cascading around in her mind. All she knew is that she had to find that feeling again.
Harry slowed to a halt in front of a desultory inn at the end of Diagon Alley. Few sent questioning glances towards his tenebrous figure. He once again mentally thanked the aged wizard for his store or concealment cloaks. Aurors would have swarmed him countless times if people had seen the new him. If they even recognized their 'savior'. But it was so uncomfortable to keep himself trapped. He felt cramped, restricted.
The inn was quite nice, considering it couldn't have much usage, being too out of the way. However, it served his intentions of a room and board perfectly. The inside was almost completely bare, consisting of a few pieces of furniture scattered about, all fake mahogany, and a rug under the lone tea table. The owner was a lady, seemingly young in age, but covered in grime from no cleaning. Her slouched stance gave sight to a crooked back and a hooked nose. A sneer was present on her face upon noticing a customer, but the benefit of money made her think twice, smiling to reveal her decaying teeth.
Harry ignored the gruesome sight before him having seen worse elsewhere. He fished out a few Knuts and two Galleons, holding them in the palm of his hand, catching the owner's eyes with his gold.
"I require your best room. Tea served immediately and no visits. Anytime." Harry dropped the money onto the counter, it shining in the dark gloom of the in, the solitary candle illuminating it.
The lone witch scooped up the money hastily, fearing Harry would snatch it back again, diminishing her hope in ever leaving the inn. she was trapped, her father hating her so left her in the cumbersome situation of no money and a destitute inn to run. She spited men, and if the rich wanderer before her had anymore money, she doubted anyone would miss him if he never returned to whence he left from. To her fortunate being, she heart the soft rapture of lucre tapping against itself, and smiled maniacally. Soon she would be leaving this place. Soon her patron would have his tea.
"Sssshe ssseeks to leave thissssss place, Differo. Be weary, my Parsssss." Eadem blended against Harry's cloak, hindering the witch's sight of him. This would serve him well, carefully masking his presence beside Harry, the witch ignorant in her money lust.
She lead them to the last room in the hall, secluded and disguised by magic. Harry looked about the hall. It was absurdly narrow, room enough for two men to walk side by side, shoulders brushing in their sway. he heard Eadem's whispered caution, yet made no sign of understanding. The less the witch new about, the easier it would be to sleep tonight without waiting for her silent shadow to stalk him. As much as he encouraged it, his death would not be dealt by her hand. Timidly, albeit with curiosity, he probed the confines of her mind and instantly smiled in relief. She was delusional: a money hawk. Her keen eyes blind to the world except for the riches which she sought to spite the ghosts of her past. Her nascency brought upon the downfall and doom of her family, forever casting them from the rollick of Wizard Society, to the antediluvian inn to which she currently resided. She won her family's hatred with the piercing shriek of being born, their eyes forever blinking at her with scorn and malice.
But not was she a frail child to cry when whipped. She grew with the harsh reality of pain swirling before her eyes, concealing the love and wondrous world around her, forever leaving her tainted and hostile. To each her siblings she presented the gift of death to their sleeping minds, ridding herself of the ones that ailed her so. But hers was not to be a life of happiness. The phantoms of her murdered family haunted her waking hours so, plaguing her dreams, snatching from her what sanity she held onto with all her might. Left behind was the hallow carcass of a beaten body, so twisted with the never ending on slot of abuses. Left behind was the sole coherent thought to leave the house and wraiths which trapped her. Left behind was the She-Devil who killed so many for the prize of lucre their belongings carried.
"Your room." It was croaked in a harsh whisper. So long since she conversed with anyone besides her broken reflection in the mirror.
"It will do. My tea; I require it not. Leave me." Harry watched the woman go. Mind reading was not something he was about to come familiar with. Though, he knew that she could break through the simple barrier of magic wards to kill her victims in the similar fashion of those she shared a common blood with.
Harry carefully took Eadem from his neck and laid him on the decisively well-preserved bed. His cloak was too much to bare, the burden a weight taking it's toll. One last glance around the room and a strong sealing spell gave him the small piece of mind that he wouldn't be seen. he pulled his hood back, finally revealing the face that once-held glasses of an almost-blind boy, and the scar of his death gone wrong. No more were the glasses needed. His eyes, once a glorious emerald green like that of his mother glowed a dull red. His scar, so much his legend and self, resided on his enemy, his forehead unmarred and smooth to perfection. he had grown older in the mishaps of his summer, a stout 16 year old boy, forced into the body of a man too soon. his face had lost all its round qualities feasting at Hogwarts served him, but was now long and hallow. He was deathly pale, a grand contrast to his almost black hair grown longer and more untidy without much care except for the simple rubber band that held it tighter away from his face. He was no longer Harry Potter, generally happy boy with friends and a home in Hogwarts. he was now Harry Potter, Differo, out casted by the ones he trusted most, grown too wise too soon.
Lastly, Harry pride his cloak from his back heedful of it sticking to his back as a bandage to a healing wound, too quick would tear. With his cloak finally off, Harry all but collapsed on to his bed. Hesitantly, he raised his hands to his line of vision. They were the last to go unmarked on his upper body. Once, while spending the summer with Hermione, they had stole away one afternoon to see a movie of their choice. Thought neither had seen the first, they watched the sequel to the movie X-Men. It was fun, and they enjoyed watching a movie about people who were treated as they would be, had the Wizarding World merged with that of the Muggle one.
And now Harry sat on his bed, his body covered in tattoos. They all connected with one another, flowing about his arms onto his shoulders, down his chest and up to his neck. Only his left cheek contained part of the tattoo, moving then to his ear and down his back. Every line was in perfect symmetry with another on the opposite side of his body, and they all started on the skin between his two wings.
His tattoos, like those of the burns on the body of the creature in the movie he saw, represented his sins. Too powerful and untamed had his fury been the night Voldemort attacked his home in Surrey. Too naive was he to understand the spell. And too hurt was he by the betrayal of his godfather and Remus to think clearly. The tattoos. his hours of pain upon etching into his flesh and soul forever remind himself with the marks of those he killed that night. His sins ne'er ever be forgotten, for they are present everywhere he goes, the pain of their making never fully gone, a remembrance of the pain he caused for others. They were black, no color fitting so well into the persona of his self-demoralization, as the absence of color itself. No color blending so greatly with his ashen skin, no color blending so perfectly as to look as if it were bleeding into his tattoos.
Regardless of his hate for his newest appendage, they were beautiful, even to one such as himself who blamed them for all. He was not supposed to have wings. They were not supposed to happen. No one in all the decades of the Wizarding World had successfully obtained wings capable of flight on their being. Many had taken wings from birds and magicked them onto their backs, but never into their bodies with bone reconstruction for flight. He was the only on who never tried and hated them with a passion. The horrible beautiful wings granted him nothing but the loss of his family.
"They are beautiful, Differo. I sssssee you. Know you. Feel you. Parssss hatesssss, yet you are a lover, Borrow Cupid'ssssss wingssss. They sssserve you, no? Hate encompasssesssss you. Not you, Differo. Never you. You mussssst not give in and loossssse your love. All thesse are ssssaved if you will fly away...."
"I can't . Not yet, my love. If I fly now, I fly away from life. Fly away." Harry walked to the window, gazing out into the dark musk of swirling fog. His eyes could see the beaten dog cantering the ground of the deserted Diagon Alley, forging for it's dinner that it's owner never provided. He closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath, pressing his forehead against the cold windowpane. His scar may not be present, but he still felt it boring into his head. "Fly away," he whispered. "Fly away..."
"Come. Ssssleep. You lack all the naturess, sssssssleep."
Harry looked to Eadem who curled himself under the covers. Was his advice naught for Harry but for himself? He held his fond chuckle at bay. So much the snake, was Eadem. But sleep was not yet for him. He felt awake, alive. Sickening as the thought was, he wished nothing more than to reach out to those he did earlier, cradle them in his arms. His children. Harry laughed a little. Who was he to call them children, when they had many years on him? He cast one last look at the fogged window, and out into the night, deciding he must sleep sooner or later.
"For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come?"
It was not yet midnight when Harry felt Eadem's tongue whip his cheek, hear his hissing. Instantly he was awake, alert. "What is it, Eadem?"
"Sssssshe comess. Ssshe comess now for my Parsssssss."
Harry heard the rattle of the door knob in her attempt to open it. It did not budge, and he heard distinctly the shriek of displeasure spring forth from her mouth. He hadn't thought to put a very strong warding spell up, believing her not to be able to open it. She did, in fact, seem to have grown in power, her rage doubling the hate which she used to burst the door open. Once she saw that the room's occupants where not sleeping, she screamed into the dead night and flung herself at the doorway. Harry's shields held, but temporarily. He cursed himself for not applying the strongest ones he had, for being too sure she could do no harm. With one final screech like that of a dying animal singing it's woe, she broke through his magic.
Harry jumped to attention, his wings hidden in the dark of the room. With one hand he held her at bay, but she struggled against his hold. He brought his second hand to grasp her in place, but yet she evaded capture. She was powerful, not so much as he, but enough to make him grit his teeth and lash out with a strike of a fire whip. Her shrill voice cried out into the night as his fire connected with her skin, leaving a burnt line across her arm. Faltering for one second, Harry loosened his grip on her, and she broke free. Her hand raised above her head, she held a glowing dagger, encrusted with dried blood, its writing dulled with the killings it's committed, and ran at him. He quickly threw up a protective bubble and she crashed into it, her dagger mearly bouncing off. Not to be overtaken, she stood and threw herself at him again, her squeal penetrating his bubble. Her cry was that of a banshee and Harry momentarily brought his hands to his ears to block the call, protection forgotten.
In that instant of calm before he could react, she rose against him, clawing at his chest. Harry arched at the pain, his wings rising to spread out above him, catching in the moonlight. At once she froze and threw herself to the floor. Tremors wracked her body and tears spilled from her eyes, her own blood leaking from her body as her sign of remorse. Gently, with caution, Harry lowered himself to his knees in front of her and reached out his left arm. She flinched away from him, but never brought her face up to look into his eyes. Gathering courage with her wretched form and quivering mass, Harry lifted her chin to make her look into his eyes. At once her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she screamed in pain and grief.
Harry wrapped his arms around the tearful girl, gathering her into a hug of comfort, understanding her misery and suffering.
"Forgive me, forgive me," she wept, rocking back and forth. Her hands tightened behind his back, shaking as they grazed the fluffy small feathers at his wing joints. "My angel..Oh my angel...you've finally come...Forgive me.."
Harry once pulled away from her suddenly small frame, his gaze piercing her eyes. Slowly, he leaned down and rubbed his cheek against hers, catching her tears with his tongue. "All is forgiven," he whispered into her ear. Keeping his eye's firmly locked with her's, he tenderly kissed her lips.
Her eyes widened, light encircling her body. Quickly, in the moment his lips touched hers, all the dirt of ages peeled from her body, opening her white skin to be tickled by the slight breeze of an open window and kissed by the light of the moon. The grease of her hair stripped away, her straight hair in knots undone, curling to a healthy shine. And finally, her clothing slid off her body, her back straightening from it's bend, her nose growing smaller until it was unhooked. Her once brown eyes turned a bright blue, sparkling with salty tears instead of the blood of her inside wounds.
She snuggled into Harry's embrace, smiling with her rosy lips, her teeth pearls in the ocean. Her breath, once pants of effort, slowed to calm intakes of air, fresh for the first time in her many years. She was young again. No more than a child first entering her teen years, the physical abuse of the family not yet started. She reached to her neck, a crystal pendant dangling on a silver chain. With quivering fingers, so graceful with youth, she undid the necklace, opening Harry's strong hand and placing it within.
"Please.." she begged, her voice harmonious and sweet, not yet dried and dead.
Harry knew what she asked of him. Knew how hard it would be, yet couldn't deny her. She who had lived through so much, and asking only one simple thing from him. With a difficulty Harry never knew before, he clenched his hand around the crystal, shattering it in his palm, a lone tear leaking down his cheek.
In his arms, with her head on his heart, the girl took in one last shuddering breath before she closed her eyes in death. Harry tightened his hold on her deceased body, hoping that for once, she would have the peace she so deserved and sought after. Her body, still pale with rebirth, waned until there was a ghostly outline of where she once lay, the breeze of wind finally scattering the few lights of where her eyes had been, freeing her forever from this plane of existence.
Harry stood on shaky legs, Eadem coming to rest against his heart, no words spoken in the quiet of the night. For none needed to be said. Harry quietly gathered his belongings, fearing that if he broke the soundless night, he would break the spell of peace so newly attained. Quickly he left the inn, he could no longer stay in such a sad place. Standing a few hundred feet in front of the entrance, he raised his right hand towards the building and whispered a spell that was carried by the wind to torch the building until nothing remained. Silently he drew his hood around his face and turned away from the fiery glow of the inn. The spell lasted seconds only, the girl's home no more, and the wind picked up to scatter those few ashes left over, a soft happy laughter of a child's echoing in it's dance.
[1] Eadem- "Same" [2] Mortis and Vitae - "Death and Life" [3] Differo - "Different, Differ" [4] ....di?tius differ?...?t?rus eadem...aequus ?i domus iam n?s.. "Once different, now same, two hearts in one home." [5] Alius Pars: "Other part, half"
Descent Into the Maelstrom
Deeper into darkness, enamored of the night
I've come to love the pain of never being right.
Sorrow is truly sweet, when embraced with open arms
Absolve yourself of sin, my friend, and let yourself be harmed.
Don't turn away your face from me, I will not be denied;
There's a beast inside you man, drown in the blood-dimmed tide!
Your petty acts of kindness only make your dull life worse
Desecrate your holy place, relish in God's curse!
Betray the ones you love! There is no sweeter pain
Bathe in blood until you find your heart forever stained.
There is no rescue for you now, you've burned the one way home
You're free from all, and now you have to deal with -- you -- alone.